Umbra Antitheus, Shadow Devil
by sbys
Summary: It's 6th year, Harry and Hermione are finally together and the Dream Team is complete once again. But a visit to Knockturn Alley leaves them waiting for a new threat...some things that go bump in the night can be deadly. Beware, the shadows are moving.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer**: _Once again, I don't own any character or setting within this story. As you all know already, they belong to the brilliant JK Rowling, except the quote by Dillon Thomas, and any similarities for JRR Tolkien's world are not mine also._

**Author's Note**: _I told you all I'd be back. I was suddenly struck by this plot while watching LOTR, the part with the balrog, for the millionth time. Ok, for those of you who asked and wanted a sequel to "Goodbye", here it is. I actually wasn't planning on writing one as I had neither a plot or time to work on it. But, now that I have both, I hope I don't let you down as a reader. Hopefully this story will hold your attention, at least for a little while. Where "Goodbye" was full of angst, this one won't have that, so, let's see how bad I do eh? Like I've said, writing any romance that's even mildly fluffy is rather difficult for me to do._

_This story is actually a bit more fun for me to write. It's a bit darker and creepier than any I've written, although you may have to wait until chapter two to really see it, and maybe you won't think it's creepy at all. Any words that you don't recognize or can't pronounce are Latin. For example, Umbra Antitheus is the words "shadow" and "devil", but that's redundant on my part…I'm sure you've already figured it out by now. I can't tell you when I'll be able to update next, I don't have my own internet connection as of yet, but hopefully soon. Now, I know Harry Potter 5 is coming out in June…so let's see if I can finish this story before then._

_To thefly, I'm still working on a story for you, I have a plot and a title, but I can't seem to write it. But, as I've got nothing but time right about now, I'll start on it soon._

_To the rest of the readers…I do hope you enjoy this story, but it's more than okay if you don't as everyone has their own opinion of such things. Anyway, here's chapter one…see you next time!_

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**_Do not go gentle into that good night…_**

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**_Dillon Thomas_**

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Narrow eyes gleamed brightly in sinister glee, glinting and flashing in the growing darkness. The sunlight slanted in through the trees in uneven bars of yellow and orange, as shadows formed in the deep recesses of the surrounding trees. A solitary figure knelt under the great expanse of a gnarled and twisted oak tree, its brittle branches sending crooked shadows along the ground below. Gray and drained of life, its bare branches reached heavenwards like long, skeletal fingers. Its roots, which had run deep and solid years before, were now lifeless and protruding from the ground.

Between two great ridges of earth and root, long fingered hands shuffled through dead grass and fallen dry leaves, clawing into the moist, clay-riddled earth below. A growing mound of dirt was piling by the ever-widening trench, hands scooping out and then dipping once more into the black loam. Faint mutters could be heard, if anyone else had been present to hear. Sweat rolled down an unlined forehead and soaked into a dirty shirt collar as shoulders worked in the endless toil of clawing into soil, rock and root. Finally, after what seemed like hours of digging and pushing dirt to the side, dirt-caked fingers scraped against a smooth, wooden surface. A smile widened parched lips, and a low laugh rumbled from the depths of their throat.

Nimble and eager fingers began to dig faster, despite the stiffness they were beginning to feel, trenching deeply around the four sides in order to get enough purchase on the slick surface to lift the wooden box from its damp and dirty grave. Finally it gave way after a mighty tug, and it was lifted out. The once glossy cherry wood finish was now water-stained and moldy; clay clung tightly to its sides. With trembling hands the mud and mold was wiped away, exposing the intricately carved words that scrolled across the top in burnished copper lettering. Slowly, shaking hands traced each word one by one, almost reverent in their touch.

_Deep within the night,_

_Men will weep._

_Within the dark shadows,_

_Comes endless sleep._

_Umbra Antitheus_

A low, raspy chuckle floated on the cool evening breeze, the sound carried deep into the shadowed trees. The cruel tone sent various birds flocking into the air from their lofty perches high in the covered branches, squawking and beating their wings madly. The figure froze; its head at an angle, listening to the rustling of leaves, and pausing for a few breathless moments until the only sounds that remained were the wind and the rattling of the air as it rushed in and out of their lungs. Reddened eyes looked back down at the box that was held tightly against their chest and stained hands struggled to pry the lid open in order to reveal its contents. 

Fingernails dug deeply into the grooves of the lid. With a tired groan and a puff of dust, the lid lifted on rusty hinges. Nestled on a bed of soft velvet, as black as midnight, neither frayed or decayed despite its years of being hidden in the ground, was a necklace. Fashioned from a simple silver chain, a smooth, round crystal was attached to it by a claw-like hand; it's long, sharp nails reaching down the glassy sides as it clung to it with an iron grip. It flashed and winked enticingly, glinting silver with a touch of red in the fading light.

With careful movements, as if it would shatter, the chain was gently untangled and the necklace removed from its bed of cloth. It was slipped around a slender neck, the pendent hanging just below the first button of their shirt, and the chain resting comfortably against the base of their neck. A small patch of heat was pooling where the orb touched flesh, sending a surge of power deep into their veins. One hand crept up to wrap itself protectively around the crystal, delighting in the heat that spread throughout their fingers and trickled up their arm. Within the once clear glass, red and black smoke began to swirl in thin, wispy strands.

"Revenge is sweet," the voice said roughly. "Harry Potter."

~*~

Sunlight filtered through the partially open bedroom windows of the small, white cottage, painting the usually crisp, white walls a soft rose as the morning sun stretched out her lazy fingers of pink and gold. The faint sounds of rustling leaves and chirping birds mixed sweetly with the pungent odor of frying bacon. A light breeze sent the thin curtains billowing inward, the soft folds flapping gently against each other.

In the growing light of morning, a black haired boy lay sleeping peacefully. His face was lax and expressionless, his mouth agape as soft snores left his lips. His lanky body was relaxed and his breathing was even and rhythmic, instead of labored and sporadic as it had been previously when he visited the land of dreams. His nights were no longer plagued with visions of piercing red eyes, bright as the glowing embers in a fire, or cold, cruel laughter, searing pain, or haunting cries of a mother he never knew.

The lifeless, gray eyes of Cedric Diggory, a fellow classmate a year older, had faded deep into the back of his memory, replaced by deep pools of endless brown and gold flecks. Eyes that shone with love, laughter, and intelligence. Eyes that looked at him, not in reproach or sudden horror, but in happiness and life, along with a hint of pride. It was within these dreams that he found his rest, his peace, dreams of a love shared.

He stirred once in his sleep, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. One arm was slung above his head as he lay on his stomach. The other arm was tucked under his lone pillow, its twin having been thrown to the floor during the course of the night. Long legs were stretched out, tangled up in the sheets that had pooled at the end of the bed. Across the room, the door opened quietly and a figure of a man slipped soundlessly inside the still bedroom. Crossing the floor silently, he knelt by the bed and spoke softly.

"Harry," his name was followed by a gentle shake on the shoulder. "Harry, wake up."

Harry groaned and rolled over onto his back, his eyes opening into mere slits as they fought to close again. "Yes Aunt Petunia," he said sleepily, his hand automatically reaching out to fumble blindly for his glasses. His normally messy black hair seemed wilder from his nights sleep. "I'll see to breakfast right away," he yawned and stumbled out of bed, a bit disorientated as he shuffled around his room in his tee-shirt, shorts, and socks, nearly walking right into his desk that was tucked into a corner.

An amused chuckle followed his groggy antics, and laughing eyes watched from their place by the bed. "Harry," another laugh escaped the lips of Sirius Black, although his brown eyes were touched with a hint of sadness at hearing his godson's automatic response to his rousing. "What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Harry swung blurry eyes round, finally coming to rest on the slight smile of his amused godfather. "Sirius?" his forehead wrinkled in a moment of confusion. "What are you doing here?" he glanced frantically at the bedroom door, fearing his Uncle Vernon would burst through like a rampaging hippopotamus, his bushy mustache bristling and demanding to know why he wasn't  in the kitchen fixing Dudley's breakfast yet.

Sirius only smiled in response, rising from his kneeling position to sit on the edge of Harry's vacated bed. "Did you forget," his smile grew a bit wider. "Where you were?" there was a light twinkle in his warm, brown eyes.

Harry stared for a moment longer before realization sunk in. "Erm – sorry," he flushed and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess I forgot," he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as his spoke.

"That much is obvious," Sirius hoisted himself off the bed. "And," he smirked, trying to ease Harry's apparent embarrassment. "I resent the fact you thought I was that hideous muggle," he crossed his arms and drew himself up to his full height as his bearded chin jutted out. "And a woman at that," he joked.

Harry flushed a deeper red and scuffed his stocking feet against the smooth, oak floorboards. "Sorry," he muttered again, not catching Sirius's teasing tone. "I didn't mean too."

Sirius chuckled again and crossed the room to place a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Hey," he told the young man before him. "I was only joking. This is your home now, no apologizes are needed," he winked before studying him with a critical eye.

He'd changed over the course of the school term, as well as the beginning of his summer holidays. His face had begun to lose its boyish and childlike qualities, instead becoming angled plains and hard lines of one who'd been through too much for such short years. He'd shot up in height by a few inches, standing at 5'9", though still shorter than Ron's towering 6'2". His shoulders had begun to broaden, becoming wider and more masculine in their appearance, his voice was deepening into a low baritone, although not without a fair bit of cracking and popping as it did so. And his frame, though still skinny, was bordering on becoming more slender than anything else, and was lined with sinewy muscle.

His trademark black hair would never leave him, or obey him, sticking up every which way it pleased. Green eyes peered out from behind round spectacles, and the ever-present lightening bolt still favored the right side of his forehead. The jagged line showed darkly against his pale flesh as it slanted and twisted downwards.

"Are you done staring at me?" it was Harry's turn to grin at the glazed look in Sirius's eyes. Amusement flashed in emerald green and he reached up a hand to try and flatten his stubborn hair.

With a quick blink, Sirius shook his head and gave a lop-sided smile. "Sorry about that," he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "I guess I got distracted for a moment," he scratched his beard and looked away as a thin layer of moisture appeared in his eyes.

"Oh?" Harry crossed his arms and gave Sirius a questioning look.

He cleared his throat. "Well you just," he paused, mentally debating on whether or not to continue. He did. "I mean, I know I've said this before, but, you look just like your dad, just like James. Even down to that crooked grin you have," Sirius said wistfully. "Except your eyes, they're your mums," his voice trailed off.

Harry said nothing as he noticed the far off look return to Sirius's eyes, just smiled and nodded. "Thanks," he murmured softly after a few more moments, not quite sure of what else was appropriate to say.

"Come on," Sirius snapped out of his memories with an apologetic grin. "It's time for breakfast."

~*~

He served Harry a breakfast that rivaled any at Hogwarts. There were mounds of fluffy, yellow eggs, and plates of golden pancakes, French toast, regular toast, bacon, and a tall pitcher of ice-cold pumpkin juice for Harry; Sirius stuck with tea. Harry stared at the food laden table with a bit of confusion.

"Um, Sirius?" he began haltingly as he plopped himself into a chair and surveyed the table with a careful eye. "Is Professor Lupin coming over for breakfast?" he inquired.

"First of all Harry, it's Remus," Sirius corrected him from somewhere in the depths of the kitchen. "And secondly, no, I'm not expecting him. Why?"

"Erm – well," he was still confused. "Anyone else?" he asked hopefully.

Sirius emerged from the other room with two plates in hand. "No."

"Then, why all the food?"

Sirius handed him a plate before seating himself across from him. With a sudden swish and flick of his wand, several bottles of syrup began to float from the kitchen, clinking together merrily. "Harry," he picked up his fork and began spooning eggs onto his plate. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?" next went a couple slices of bacon to join the eggs. 

"Yes, everyday in fact," arms were crossed and green eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?" he looked at Sirius expectantly. 

"You're too thin," Sirius replied calmly, reaching out a hand to pick up the salt shaker. "Especially for a growing boy, you really ought to eat more."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes Mrs. Weasley," he smirked and then smiled at the thought of the plump, red-haired woman giving him the same advice. 

His smile was returned. "Speaking of the Weasley's," he paused to shovel in a forkful of eggs. "Ron sent an owl," he pointed at the parchment sitting neatly on the counter with his knife.

A wide grin spread across Harry's face as he caught sight of the letter. Pushing back from the table, he rose to get it. Breaking the seal open, he wandered back over to his chair and sat down to read.

_Harry –_

_Hey mate, how is your summer with Sirius? It must be a relief for you not to have to stay with those stuffy muggles anymore. My holiday started off a bit slow, but Lavender and I have taken to owling each other. Sod off you git, I know what you're thinking. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for a week or so, starting Friday. Things are pretty dull around here and I think mum is getting annoyed by all my lazing around. I was going to write Hermione and invite her too, but I think I'll leave that up to you. Owl soon and let me know._

_Ron_

"Sirius," Harry put the letter down next to his still empty plate and glanced up at him. "Ron wants to know if I can go over to the Burrow for a week or so, starting Friday."

Sirius finished chewing and took a sip from the teacup sitting next to him. "If you want to, you can," he nodded and then went on with a sly look in his eyes. "Will Hermione be there?" he grinned wider, teasing shinning from his eyes.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair and blushed for the third time that morning, right up to his hairline. "Erm – maybe," he stared at his plate. "I – I haven't asked her yet," he muttered a bit bashfully.

Sirius set his cup down with a clunk. "I can't believe you've gone and gotten yourself a girlfriend," he leaned back in his chair until the wooden back creaked and groaned. "A girlfriend," he repeated himself and laced his hands behind his head. "There'll be broken hearted witches all over the wizarding world once word gets out."

Harry choked and sputtered in embarrassment at Sirius's comment.

"A girlfriend," he was beginning to sound like a broken record by now. "And Hermione at that," the torment continued. "Who would have guessed that you two would end up together?" he paused. "Well, you did make a spectacle of yourselves at your welcome back party. Really, one would have to be blind not to notice the way you two looked at each other the whole time. And let's not forget the hug," he winked. "I'm sure that sent tongues wagging all throughout Gryffindor Tower."

Harry gagged. "Sod off," he managed to spit out, his face on fire.

Sirius grinned and finally relented. "You can go," he said again. "And tell Hermione I said hi. You couldn't have picked a better girl."

"I think she picked me," Harry managed to fight down his embarrassment, dropping his eyes down to where Ron's letter was still sitting. "I'm surprised that they still want anything to do with me," he said softly. "I mean, after everything I said about them last year."

"The Weasley's are good people," Sirius leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. "I think they're just happy you're back to your old self. We all are in fact."

Harry nodded once, doubt at Sirius's words still showing plain on his face and eyes. "Thanks Sirius," he murmured, rising to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Sirius asked with raised eyebrows.

"To my room," Harry froze, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

Sirius's eyes went from Harry's face to his empty plate. "You need to eat something before you go," he picked up his teacup again. "I know the Dursley's didn't feed you like they should have, and that stops now," he waved a hand towards the empty chair. "Come on Harry," he urged.

He gave a slight smile and seated himself once more. "I suppose Ron's letter can wait until after breakfast."

~*~

When he finally left the table, Sirius stuffing him until he was sure he'd burst wide open, and entered his room, the first thing he noticed was Hedwig perched on the windowsill, a letter wrapped tightly around her leg. He crossed the room and fondly stroked her head as she ruffled her feathers importantly. 

"Hey girl," he said softly as she hooted in response. She nibbled his finger lightly and held out her leg so he could untie her burden. "Thank you," he smiled as he noted the neat and precise handwriting of Hermione. "Don't go too far," he told the owl. "I'll need to send a reply."

She managed a lazy blink of her amber eyes and gave a hoot suggesting that she knew that already as she'd been flying back and forth in between their houses for the last couple of weeks now.

He only smiled and sat on the edge of his bed to unroll Hermione's letter, his heart picking up speed just at the mere thought of her. And, try as he might, he couldn't stop the wide grin from lighting up his face.

_Dear Harry –_

_I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. I suppose I could fill pages and pages with that, but I won't. I'm sure you get the idea by now. I know it's only a month or so into our summer holiday, and I should have asked you this sooner, but have you started on your summer homework? If you haven't, you should. It won't get done on its own you know. I've already finished most of mine, but I should still go back through and make sure I haven't left anything out._

_Things are going well here and mum and dad say hi. How are you? Are you still sleeping okay? Write soon. I love you and I'll tell you that as often as you like. Miss you again._

_Love –_

_Your Hermione_

Another dreamy smile slid across his features as he read her words. His Hermione. It was still somewhat of a shock to him that she could and did love him for who he really was and not just for the thrill of dating him, as if he were a prize to be won. Letting out a sigh, he flopped backwards on his bed, arms spread out and Hermione's letter resting lightly on his chest. The familiar warm feeling that he associated with only her rolled through his system.

He closed his eyes and conjured up a mental image of her sparkling brown eyes framed by her studious-looking glasses, her long toffee colored hair, her clear, porcelain skin, and the smile that lit up her face with its happiness. Above him, Hedwig hooted, rousing him from his day dreaming and reminding him that she was still awaiting his response to Hermione's letter. He cracked open his eyes, glanced up at his faithful pet, and rose from his bed to sit at the wooden desk, the same one that he'd almost run into earlier. 

He pulled out a fresh bottle of ink, shoved his school texts to the side of the wooden surface, and pulled a clean, fresh sheet of parchment towards him. Tapping the end of his quill thoughtfully against his chin, he dipped the tip into the ink and began to write. The words began to appear in his messy scrawl, contrasting sharply against the creamy paper.

_My Hermione –_

_I miss you too love, more than you'll ever know. I was just about to send you a letter when I found Hedwig waiting for me with yours. I'm glad to hear everything is going well for you and tell your parents hi for me as well. And no, I haven't started my homework, but don't worry, I'll finish it before school starts. We all can't be as intelligent and studious as you are love, and remember, I love you because of that._

_Yes I'm still sleeping fine, for some reason I can't get your image out of my mind. Why could that be? Ron's just owled me and asked if we could join him for a week at the Burrow starting Friday. Do you think your parents would let you go? Sirius has already said yes and hi by the way. I'll wait to hear from you before sending a reply back to Ron. Write as soon as you can. Love you and hope to see you soon._

_Love –_

_Harry_

He lay the quill back down on the desk, capped the ink bottle and re-read his letter with an air of satisfaction. He gently blew on the letter to dry the ink faster before folding it in half and carrying it over to where Hedwig. She obediently held out her leg, allowing him to tie on the letter. After carefully strapping it down, he stroked her feathers and carried her over to the window as she perched on his arm.

"Wait for an answer alright?"

She hooted in reply, nipped at him, and stepped off his outstretched arm and onto the windowsill. Bobbing her head once, she spread her wings and soared out into the sky, blending in with the overlay of fluffy, white clouds.

~*~

It was only an hour before Hedwig returned, lighting gracefully onto Harry's headboard once again. Ruffling her feathers to remove the last traces of water from the rain she'd come across, she hopped down onto his bed where he lay sleeping, one hand still clutching Hermione's letter. Looking at him with a cocked head, Hedwig nipped him gently on the wrist, causing him to stir and stretch.

"Hey girl," he greeted with a yawn as she hooted in response and hopped onto his chest to show him her leg. "Thank you," he rubbed his eyes and reached out to untie the parchment.

_Dear Harry –_

_I didn't expect you to reply so soon, not that I mind though. I love it when you call me your Hermione; it just makes me feel so loved. I've just asked my parents and they said it was fine if I go. Is it alright if my dad drops me off at your house on Friday? That way we can go to the Burrow together. I can't wait to see you._

_Love –_

_Your Hermione_

He grinned in happiness and sat up in his bed, rolling off it in order to get to his desk to send another reply. Sitting down, he hastily scribbled another note.

_My Hermione –_

_Yes, of course it's fine if your dad drops you off here first. Let me know what time and I'll be counting down the days until I see you again._

_Love –_

_Harry_

He folded the letter, attached it to Hedwig once more, and sent her on her way, mentally counting down until he saw Hermione again.


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer**: _Once again I don't own anything that you see here, in fact, not even the computer that I'm writing this on, that belongs to my friend. All the rest belongs to JK Rowling._

**Author's Note**: _I apologize for the layout of the first chapter, the format got a bit screwy when I saved it. Hopefully I'll figure out what I'm doing wrong and fix it, it's just that  I'm not used to Windows XP since I don't have it at home. I hope you all liked the first chapter, although it was a bit short in my opinion, and I hope to make the remaining ones longer. As for as how long this story will be in terms of the number of chapters, that I don't know. I guess until I run out of ideas and I simply can't write it anymore. Also, please forgive me if anything is spelled incorrectly, I don't have my books here to reference anything._

_A special__ thanks to my first four reviewers: Sammac, SweetHeart, HoGwArTs fLiRt12, and Melbell (I sure hope I've spelled your names correctly). I appreciate all your comments._

_To Sammac: I have thought about portkey.org (it's a wonderful site is it not? NAPPA and everyone else has done a fantastic job with it), but I dunno if I will or not. I don't think my stories are that brilliant to post anywhere else. I'm just lucky, and thankful, that ff.net let me load them here and that anyone would want to read them._

_Alright, enough babble from me…on with chapter two, with the hopes that chapter three will be out soon. Take care! Hope you all enjoy it. Oh yes, for all the H/Hr lovers, this chapter has quite a bit of romantic fluff for you…hope I didn't do to poorly with it._

**~*~**

Multiple candles flickered in tall, gleaming candelabras, their tiny, wavering flames sending wispy shadows dancing across the walls in eerie and sensual movements; liquid smoke against solid, stone walls. A black robed figure sat cross-legged on the rough, tiled floor, eyes traveling from a crumpled sheet of parchment to the object before them. Eight white pillar candles, arranged in a circle in the middle of the floor, sputtered to life, adding to the already warm glow of the room. 

The necklace dangled from the first and second fingers of the figures right hand, the chain sparkling richly as the light bounced off it, catching on the links of the chain. The once clear crystal orb was now filled with thick, sluggish red smoke, streaked here and there with black; the color of blood and hate. There were no windows in the small enclosure, the air smelled stuffy and stale, and it was filled with long forgotten objects of years gone by. 

Sheet draped paintings and furniture were packed tightly together against the walls, creating an ancient, ghostly barrier as they were dressed all in white, dimmed by the dust and dirt that had collected. The smell of hot wax and old books, their leather bindings cracked and moth-eaten and their pages crumbling into dust, filled the room along with the scent of sweat and heat.

Rising into a kneeling position in the center of the candlelit circle, the figure sat hunched over, the long, black robe pooling out on either side and gathered in bunches here and there. Hands tightened sporadically around the thin, sliver chain, almost as if they were afraid that it might disappear all together. Bowing their head, thin lips pressed a kiss, the lightest of touches, to the blood red pendent before straightening and beginning to speak in low, raspy tones.

_Servant of darkness,_

_Friend of sorrow,_

_Hear my call._

_Unearthed from your dark grave,_

_Come forth once more,_

_Among the land of the living._

_Renew your strength with the gift I offer you._

_Obey only me,_

_For I am your master now._

_I call to you…Umbra Antitheus,_

_Demon of dreams and darkness,_

_Creature of the night._

A heavy silence filled the room once the last word was uttered. The only sounds to break through the tangible thickness were ragged breathing and the sounds of the flickering flames sucking wax greedily through their blackened wicks. Sitting as if they were carved from stone, the speaker waited with baited breath for a sign that the spell had been cast correctly. Still nothing, the only new sound to mingle with the first two was the soft sputtering sound of hot wax dripping down the sides of the candles in uneven ridges, past the candelabras, and onto the cool floor, creating pliable pools of white wax around their bases.

Then, in the wavering light, in the farthest corners where the candles fingers couldn't reach, a hunched and twisted shape was forming. The already heavy air seemed to grow more so, the pressure of it hovering, clinging like a wet blanket, and even the light seemed to dim in the smothering air. Scales, resembling a snake's, mixed with short, wiry hairs that bristled with each movement, covered a hulking body from head to toe. The color of them was a mixture of a slimy green and muddy brown, each scale shimmering in the light. Two short, leathery wings protruded just above the shoulder blades, the tips, pointed and sharp, came to rest an inch above its elbows. The arms and legs of the creature were thick and solid with muscle and around its right bicep was an arm band fashioned out of black iron, its mouth was filled with long, sharp teeth, and its feet and hands were tipped with curved talons, some jagged and broken. 

The snout was long and pointed, a mixture of a dragon and a snake combined, and the nostrils were flat; mere slits that opened and closed with each growling breath. On its head, two curved horns jutted out of its skull, dull and black. Two narrow, yellow eyes rimmed in fire red, the pupils vertical and thin, were bright and gave the appearance of a cat's, peered out from the shadows; sinister and evil. Following the unearthly, golden glow came a low grumble, permeating the air with a breath of heat, sulfur and decay and death. The kneeling figure recoiled slightly in fear as the creature's eyes narrowed even further in a flash of hate and hunger. The fear was quickly tamped down, a look of cool indifference replacing the weak one. The hulking figure crept forward, seeming to glide on the air and slither through the shadows, rather than walk, the only sound disputing this was the sharp click of talons on stone. The shadow stopped at the edge of the light, just before the soft glow could expose it.

"Master," the word came out in a rotten hiss, a faint puff of red smoke leaving its mouth, and its eyes gleaming wickedly in the light as it looked down on the form of its releaser. "Master, for thousands of years I waited the day when I was released to walk among the land of men once more," another growl accompanied his words along with the slight chomping of teeth against teeth. "In my prison I waited, hungry and restless, my collection waning and no longer appealing to my eyes. I am Zabulus, the Umbra Antitheus, and as my releaser, I obey only you. Tell me, how you found me?" the demon stopped speaking, heat seeming to radiate off its body in waves as its ravenous eyes kept up their intent stare. 

 The robe clad figure paused for a moment, slightly disgusted by the scent that seemed to float around the creature Zabulus like a hideous cloud, before speaking. "From an ancient scroll, locked away and kept secret for years. In solitude and determination I sought you, awaiting the right time to unlock your power once again."

"What do you wish of me?"

A snicker. "I desire revenge," they hissed. "On the one who has walked in glory and esteem for far too long."

Zabulus nodded once. Over the course of his long and feared life, he had been used more than once in the act of revenge by those who had the strength of will to use him. Zabulus wasn't his only name as he was known by others…Death, War, Destruction, Terror, Demon of Dreams; he was one and the same and took great pride in his work. Created from every foul thought and action, he'd roamed the land of the living, searching and destroying as he crushed out lives one by one. "Very well," he finally growled. "When do you wish me to begin?" a look of undeniable hunger crept into his eyes.

"Soon," came the hoarse reply. "Very soon I shall need your help. But not yet, not just yet," a malicious look filled their eyes.

"My collection is lacking," Zabulus repeated again, a thin, black tongue poking out to slither across scaly lips. Long, white teeth flashed in the light.

"Soon," he was told again, much to the impatience of Zabulus. "You will be able to quench your desires. But, for now, patience is what you will need to have."

"As you wish," Zabulus spit out, not pleased that he would have to wait another day. Large hands clenched into fists and wings fluttered slightly. "I shall return to my lair. You know how to call me if you choose," the creature glowered for a moment longer before beginning to melt away into heavy, black smoke. Soon, only the eyes remained, floating aloft in the black swirl before they too, winked out.

Eyes watched as the thick mist clung to the floor like cobwebs, creeping soundlessly along the dank tiles, keeping tightly to the walls and shadows. It seeped out of the crack under the door like water and out of sight. Once he was gone, the light grew brighter, as if a hundred more candles had been lit, and the air grew lighter, easier to breath once more.

Letting out a deep sigh and tipping their head back, a loud, braying laughter filled the room. "I shall take that which you hold most dear and leave you cursing the day we meet," the voice chuckled and hands clung to the necklace, fingernails making half-moon shape marks into their palms. "I will take your heart."

~*~

The wait until Friday seemed to drag by for Harry. He had passed the time away by lounging about the house reading or relaxing and generally helping Sirius out in fixing up the small, quaint cottage that he had purchased shortly after his release. They'd managed to put on a fresh coat of white paint on the outside and on the small, picket fence that ran along the front yard, the muggle way as to not scare their neighbors in case they looked out the windows and saw paint brushes moving all by themselves. He weeded the garden, a rather enjoyable experience now that he wasn't being poked and prodded at by his detestable aunt, or being tormented by his overweight cousin.

A slight grin spread across his lips as he remembered the day Sirius had come to collect him from Number Four, Privet Drive. His uncle's face had paled and then turned a fiery shade of red, all within a matter of seconds at the sight of an 'escaped convict' being present in his house. His Aunt Petunia had squealed in fright, sounding like a pig that had gotten their head caught in a bucket, and had pulled Dudley, who was wider than he was tall after growing out of his school uniforms, again, closer to shield him from the 'abnormal' people. Truthfully, had Sirius come to actually harm them, Aunt Petunia would have done well to hide behind her precious Dudley instead.

Sirius's lips had curled in disgust at the sight of the simpering family, his brown eyes glittering in barely controlled rage as he surveyed them. But, he remained pleasant, or at least cordial, as he stood in the foyer and instructed Harry to grab his trunk and other belongings.

"Take him," Vernon dared to mutter, his lip twitching underneath his bushy mustache, quite pleased to finally be getting rid of his freak of a nephew. "Take him and good riddance to bad rubbish I say."

Sirius glared and scowled in response, biting his lip in order to keep himself from hexing the fat muggle until Doomsday. Vernon mistook his silence for weakness and had puffed out his chest with his remaining nerve, and foolishly ploughed ahead.

"You know," his beady eyes took on a faint glint of greediness as he watched Harry drag his trunk out of the locked cupboard under the stairs, his former bedroom. "We did raise him the best we could since he was so rudely left on our doorstep," he snorted out.

Brown eyes narrowed even further, Sirius's eyebrows knitting together in a straight line.

"And out of the kindness of our hearts," he went on, trying to give the impression and he and his family were saints for taking care of him. "We took him in. Clothed him, feed him, gave him shelter," Vernon disregarded the other man's larger build and hard look, forgetting momentarily that this was a 'criminal' he was talking down to. "I think it would only be fair, no, right, yes right," Vernon continued to babble, sounding as if he were talking to himself as his words fell on deaf ears. "To receive a bit of gratitude for watching over him for the last fifteen years."

That smug statement was simply the last straw for him. Harry might have been able to let the comment slide, or even been rather thankful that they had taken him in, as kindness was second nature to him. But not Sirius.

"Gratitude!" he bellowed, his hands clenched at his sides and his teeth bared. "How can you stand in front of me and demand something, even one ounce of thanks from the boy you kept locked in a cupboard under the stairs for years!" he snorted in disgust as Vernon took a step backwards at the force in Sirius's tone, his fleshy face turning pale once again. "Oh yes, I knew about that," he growled, taking a matching step forward to crowd out Vernon's space. "But I suppose you rather liked it, having him here," he went on. "It was almost like having your own personal slave round the house. Cleaning, cooking your breakfast, doing your outside chores, and not having to pay a dime for all the hard work," he paused, allowing his words time to penetrate Vernon's thick skull. "The boy is your nephew," he hissed. "Your own flesh and blood, and yet you'd rather disown him altogether. Out of sight, out of mind right?"

Vernon's eyes bugged out, his jaw opening and closing like a fish on dry land. "But, but…" he sputtered helplessly, glancing over at his wife for some support with no luck. Petunia merely whimpered with wide eyes, pressing herself tighter against the wall, and pulled Dudley closer, one arm wrapped around his large neck as she squeezed. Dudley hacked, his chubby face slowly turning purple as he tore at his mother's iron grip.

"Don't speak," Sirius warned in a low tone before Vernon could spit out another word. "And don't you ever ask Harry for anything again," and to Vernon's shock, a growl, more like an animals than a man's, came from his throat.

Harry, meanwhile, had to bite back a smile as his godfather raged at his uncle. He had gathered all his belongings during their confrontation, stuffed what he could in his trunk, and placed Hedwig's cage neatly on top.

"You're a pathetic excuse for a human," Sirius hissed, his cheeks were flushed red and his very hair seemed to bristle. "And I promise you this, Harry will never step foot in this house again."

"Harry!" a squeal pierced the air and jolted him back to reality.

He whipped his head around, a smile lighting up his face as he clambered up from where he was sitting by the half weeded garden, wiping his dirty hands on his trousers as he went. A vision of a girl with long flowing hair and sparkling eyes seemed to float towards him as though on a cloud. She looked like an angel; the only missing pieces were her wings and halo. "Hermione?" he said her name in response, his heart began pounding, not quite sure if he was still dreaming or not as he watched her race across the lawn towards him.

He wasn't dreaming and a rush of love, both powerful and frightening at the same time, sent heat spiraling through his body as the butterflies began flapping wildly in his stomach. "Hermione!" he took one step closer to her and then stopped, a sudden wave of insecurities crashing through him. Suddenly he was shy and bashful, much like the eleven year old boy that she'd first met on the way for their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Thoughts that she still might harbor some residual hard feelings towards him after the way he'd acted in their fifth year, despite all her letters and comforting words, and sudden worry that he wasn't good enough for her, caused him to hang back.

He watched with keen eyes as she approached him, her long hair teased by her sprinting. Her warm, compassionate eyes that could swallow him alive and cause him to forget every thought that was in his head, shone with happiness and love. Upon seeing the latter of the two radiating from her very soul, every doubt and worry he'd built up inside himself, dissipated, and he took a few shaky steps towards her, opening his arms to catch her in a tight embrace.

She flung herself at him just at that moment, her own arms darting around his neck as she pressed her face against his chest, her hands combing into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. "God I missed you," she whispered huskily, the smoky sound of it sending a shiver down his spine. 

His breath rattled in his lungs as he pressed his face into the softness of her hair, breathing her into his heart and soul. Her scent of roses and vanilla followed her like a cloud, or a dream, and he greedily absorbed it. His face moved downwards to where her neck and shoulder met, his warm breath causing her flesh to tremble under its heat. "I missed you too, my Hermione," his hands came up to tangle themselves into her long hair and he tipped her head back.

Half-lidded pools of golden brown met his, and a slight smile curved up the corners of her lips. Uncurling one hand from her hair, he gently brushed several strands of it away from her forehead before tenderly cupping the side of her face and tracing a thumb over her lips.

Her heart pounded madly in her chest, partly from running, but mostly from being near him once more. Her breath left her lips in thin puffs of air as her eyes softened at his gentle and awed look as he gazed at her. The touch of his hand on her face made her knees weak and her arms heavy, she was convinced that she'd swoon right then and there if he were to let go.

Her own hands refused to remain wrapped around his neck as his continued to caress her face. They slid down to settle on his chest, her right hand splayed over his heart, which was beating as fast as her own at her touch. She bit her lip lightly, trying to keep a wide grin in check, silently please that she had the same affect on him as he did over her. A devilish glint sparked in her eyes as she saw his jaw clench tightly, the muscles standing out sharply on his lean face. His usually bright, clear green eyes had turned darker, filled with rampaging emotions that she knew she could relate too.

"Are you going to sit and stare at me all day?" she teased as her fingers curled into the soft folds of his well-worn shirt that smelled of earth and wind and sunshine, and Harry. "Or are you going to kiss me?" her smile grew wider as she blinked innocently up at him.

His heart nearly stopped beating at her words and it became a bit harder to force air past the tightness of his lungs. "I – I," he stuttered and licked his suddenly dry lips as his eyes continued their fascination with her lips. "I was getting to that," his voice dropped lower, coming out more like a whisper.

"Good," she pulled him closer by his shirt and tilted her head up on her own accord to meet his lips with hers.

He met them with the lightest of touches, a slight caress, before pulling back to stare down at her once more. It only took a moment, if even a second, before he crushed his lips against hers again, this time more possessively and confident. He was consuming her, drawing her into his very being with each passing moment, and she knew it. A low groan came from the depths of her throat as she leaned her head back farther, her neck and back slightly arched, and pressed herself closer to him.

With one hand still on her cheek, his other hand slipped from their purchase in her hair, traveled down the length of her slim neck, past her shoulders, and came to rest in the small of her back. Strong fingers applied gentle pressure against the slightly indented area and sent five points of heat through the thin fabric of her blouse, setting her skin on fire and awakening the familiar desire that she had whenever she kissed him.

Deciding to return the favor of blissful torment, Hermione's hands slipped from his chest to the hem of the shirt that he had un-tucked from his trousers due to the heat while weeding. Shifting slightly so that she could reach between them, she slipped one hand inside and up, sending muscles quivering lightly at her touch. Almost greedily her hands roamed up his stomach, to the smooth plains of his chest, hungry for the feel of his flesh sliding under her fingers. It was Harry's turn to groan as her hands traced lazy circles against him.

He pressed his mouth harder on hers, quite sure that the both of them would be sporting bruised and swollen lips for the rest of the day, but not caring at all. Hermione's lips parted slightly, a silent invitation, which he took without hesitation. After a few moments of heated exploration on both their parts, he pulled back, green eyes glazed over and his lungs gasping for air.

She was no better. Within the dark depths of her eyes smoldered an inner fire, his kiss having fanned the flame until it roared into a raging inferno within her. Meeting his eyes with hers sent the intense heat straight into his soul, nearly knocking him over in its potency.

"Hermione," Harry managed to spit out past the rising lump in his throat.

"Shh," she trailed a hand up and placed a slender finger against his lips to silence him, knowing exactly what he needed to hear. "I love you Harry."

His heart lurched in his chest, sending exhilaration to mix with love as it rioted through his veins at her words. He was slightly humbled by her frank and sincere declaration of love, and genuinely touched. Jaw muscles clenched tightly once more as he shuddered once again. "Thank you," he breathed out, his eyes speaking volumes that his voice wouldn't allow him to do.

Her heart skipped a beat at the look on his face and in his eyes. Once again she felt a wave of sadness at the fact that he'd been so unloved for most of his life and that his insecurities were beginning to filter through to their relationship. "Hey," she said softly, reaching up with both hand to run her hands through his thick hair, her fingers teasing the black strands to stick up more wildly. "I should be the one thanking you, you know.'

He blinked in surprise. "Thank me?" he echoed, weakly. "Why is that?"

She nibbled a bit on her lip before answering. "Because," she paused. "I thought for sure I'd be doomed to being your best friend, only your best friend, for the rest of my life," she gave a half-smile. "That I'd have to watch you be with one beautiful witch after another and never seeing me."

"You?" he was shocked. "Are you joking? I always see you Hermione."

She flushed slightly at his incredulous remark, her eyes dropping down in embarrassment. "Yes me," she shuffled her feet.

Sensing her discomfort at his comment, he gripped her hand tightly in his, giving her hand a loving squeeze. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly, placing one hand under her chin so she'd look up at him again. "But you're silly if you think that."

Brown eyes widened in hurt.

"No, no, it's not what you're thinking," he hurried to explain before she took it the wrong way completely. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

She gave a wobbly smile and arched an eyebrow. "How did you mean it then?" she questioned him, willing to hear him out.

He faltered for a moment, his eyes wandering across the grass at their feet. "I just meant that you were silly in thinking that I'd never see you as more than just my friend," he shrugged his shoulder as if that could explain it all. "I'd have to be both blind and stupid to not ever notice you for what and who you are," he paused again, a slight flush showing on his face. "If you only saw in yourself what I see in you Hermione, you'd never think that, not even for one second. You're beautiful Hermione Granger," he finally looked up and locked eyes with her. "Never doubt that. And if anyone else says any different, then he'll have to deal with me."

Her smile straightened and she let out an airy laugh as she threw her arms around him once more. "Do you know how wonderful you really are Harry Potter?" she asked, her head nestled against his shoulder.

He breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that she wasn't angry or upset by his previous comment. "No," he rubbed her back. "And I don't really care, just as long as you think I am."

"You are and I do think so," she nodded and then let out a long sigh. "Love you Harry."

"Love you too, my Hermione. Remember, all I want is you, just like you are."

~*~

"There you two are," Sirius commented when Harry and Hermione finally made their way inside, long after Mr. Granger had left, hand in hand. "I was wondering where you two had gone off too," he paused and grinned impishly. "And I was about to go looking, but, I figured that you wanted to be alone for a bit," this last part caused Hermione to drop her eyes as a light blush began creeping up her neck once more.

"Don't mind him," Harry muttered softly and squeezed her hand. "He's been doing this ever since I got up this morning."

A chuckle escaped Sirius's lips as he watched the two of them together. Even he had to admit to himself that he hadn't seen a better suited couple since Lily and James. After hearing Harry's comforting words and the jolliness in his godfather's laugh, Hermione visibly relaxed and gave Sirius a shy smile.

"Hello Sirius," she said softly, still clinging to Harry's hand as she regarded Sirius from under her eyelashes. "How are you doing?"

"Fine and well," he rustled the newspaper he held in his hands. "And you?" he arched an eyebrow.

"Never better," she replied honestly at his question, shooting Harry a quick look as she did. Sirius caught it and smile to himself.

"Wonderful, we're glad to have you here, aren't we Harry?" twinkling eyes darted to the still silent form of his godson as his teasing shifted from one teenager to the other.

He cleared his throat and scratched at his head. "Erm – yeah," he muttered, forgetting the words he'd told his girlfriend only moments before and wishing the floor would open up underneath him and swallow him whole.

Hermione took this opportunity to pull away from him, wandering over to the large bay window situated in their living room that overlooked the front yard and the gleaming picket fence. A soft smile spread over her face and a dreamy look filled her eyes. "I like the house," she said earnestly to whoever was listening. "You did a great job at picking it out Sirius."

It was Sirius's turn to flush at her praise and his chest puffed out slightly at her words. "Thank you," he nodded as he rustled his paper once more. "I know it's not much," he shrugged his broad shoulders. "But…"

"It's wonderful," she broke in and spun round, the smile still attached to her lips.

The flush that had begun to fade on his face roared to life again. "So," he quickly changed the subject before he turned as red as a tomato in front of her. "When are you two off to the Weasley's?" he questioned.

Harry turned and glanced at the clock in the corner of the room, checking the time. "I told Ron we'd be over about two o'clock," he informed him. "We still have a couple hours left, or we could go early?" he shot a look towards Hermione silently asking her.

"No," she shook her head. "That's alright," she stepped forward and took his hand in hers once more. "Come on," she tugged at his arm. "I want a tour."

Harry followed obediently, the look of wonder at her touch lighting his face as well as a shy smile. 

"The boy's got it bad," Sirius laughed to himself as he began to read his forgotten paper. "He's just like you James," a wry smile on his face as he muttered to an old memory that hadn't faded over the years like most did. "So much like you that it's like you never left old friend. I wish you and Lily were here to see it," but in his heart, he knew they could, wherever they were.

~*~

"Missed you," Hermione muttered again as they lay side by side on Harry's bed as he lazily combed his fingers through her fanned out hair. 

He chuckled lightly, his laughter sending short vibrations across the mattress beneath them. This was only about the millionth time that she'd told him, letters included, although he doubted he'd ever get tired of hearing it. Deciding to tease her a bit, he rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow, still grinning and his eyes filled with happiness. "You missed me eh?" he arched one eyebrow as he looked down at her. "How much did you miss me?" he asked innocently, dropping his eyes away from her face and picking at an invisible thread on his comforter. 

Hermione stared up at him, catching the teasing tone and look, and returned his grin with one of her own. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she answered rather primly, lifting one hand to inspect her fingernails daintily, an action of indifference that she didn't feel. Actually, she was beginning to feel quite warm and drowsy, her blood seeming to slow into a sluggish flowing as her heart beat slow and dull in her ears. It was possible that it was because she was lying partially in the warm shaft of sunlight that was streaming through the window, but she knew better. She knew that just being close to him could turn her into a pile of quivering goo, unable to move or care if she ever did again.

He narrowed his eyes in a sly look, definitely catching the forced tone of impassiveness in her voice. His grin faded into a lopsided smirk and he settled himself more comfortably on his bent elbow. "Well then," he began thoughtfully, tapping one finger against his chin as if he were making a momentous decision. "If you won't tell me," knuckles were cracked, causing Hermione to jerk her eyes back to his face. "Then I'll just have to torture it out of you," he warned, a wicked smile taking over the place of the smirk.

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened in surprise. "You wouldn't dare," she squealed, her muscles bunching together in order to spring away from him in case he decided to attack.

"I would," he informed her heartlessly, and he did. His hands darted towards the ticklish spots on her sides and the backs of her knees before she could escape him, sending her into a fit of laughter mixed with shrieks.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" she howled as she fought for breath and tried to squirm away from his relentless hands only to be held fast by strong arms. "You are so going to regret this!" tears were beginning to form in her eyes as she continued her fruitless struggle.

Harry was laughing too, deep, heartfelt chuckles as he incessantly tickled her and did his best to avoid her thrashing legs. He held tighter to her, he could feel that she was more determined to wiggle away. In between her giggles, Hermione gathered her last remaining strength as she sucked in a deep lungful of air. Before he even had time to react, she nimbly slid a leg underneath him and rolled to her left; wanting to knock him off balance and not stopping to think of the sudden position she'd find herself in if she were to succeed. 

She did, and the giddy laughter died on both their lips as surprised and serious eyes met each other. Her hasty action had left Harry sprawled on top of her, hips settled lightly against hers and their legs intertwined. Both of his arms were planned firmly on either side of her shoulders and keeping him propped up from crushing her. Her own hands were pressed against his chest. Despite the intimate position that she wasn't quite ready for, she felt safe, wrapped up in a world that focused solely on her and Harry. A wonderful world of endless, emerald green and dark, earthy brown.

Harry said nothing, couldn't even if he had wanted too. The sudden lurch of her body as she rolled had caught him off-guard and he had no choice but to follow it. The sudden contact of body against body sent him spiraling into a well of desire so deep and powerful, that all coherent thought fled his mind as the blood drained downwards. He continued to stare at her in a mixture of awe and sudden panic as he fought to keep his wits about him, something that was becoming increasingly hard to do when all he wanted to was to stay like this forever.

She could feel his heart thumping wildly under her fingers as well as the heat that was radiating from his body and enveloping her within its exhilarating warmth. She could hear the labored sounds of his breath, matching her own in its sound and quality, as it left his lungs. Her lips parted and a flush was making its way up the delicate baseline of her neck, climbing higher to paint her cheeks with its red hue and her eyes turned into a burning, liquid brown. Time ceased to exist and the world stopped its turning as they regarded each other breathlessly.

She finally said his name, coming out low and deep like a hum or a purr, as she forced the word past the tightness in her throat. "Harry?" 

He blinked once, then twice, as the sound of his name rang hollowly through the empty corridors of his mind. Slowly, a rush of blood roared through his ears as he remembered their current position. "Oh God," he turned a flaming red and his eyes darted back and forth, almost desperately trying to find a way to get off her without further embarrassing himself, or her. "I'm so sorry," he apologized and managed to scramble away, going back to his original position of lying beside her, only this time he turned his head away to stare at the wall.

Hermione licked her dry lips and pushed back the clump of hair from her burning forehead, trying to quell the rush of emotion roaring through her. She took a few shaky breaths, calming her nerves and her blood, before trusting herself to speak. "Harry?" she sought his hand blindly, wanting to ease his embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," he repeated again, the awkwardness apparent still in his voice. Nonetheless, he allowed her to grasp his hand within hers and interlace their fingers together.

She smiled softly at the back of his head. "There's nothing to be sorry about," she told him gently. "You did nothing wrong, really. It was mostly my fault," she sighed. "I shouldn't have caught you off guard like that, and I guess I wasn't thinking properly."

After a moment of silence, he finally rolled his head over to face her, faint traces of guilt floating in his eyes as if it was his entire fault. "I don't," he began thickly, stuttering slightly over his words. "I mean, I never want to make you feel uncomfortable Hermione," he whispered, his brow wrinkling in concern. 

"I know," she reached over and ran her free hand through his hair, her fingernails raking lightly against his scalp. "And I know you'd never try and make me do something that I wasn't ready for," she paused, allowing her words time to sink in. "And I know I love you Harry, and that our love is special," she went on. "But I – I want to take our relationship slow. I may have dated, briefly I may add, Krum and Ron, but you're different, we're different, Harry, I know it," she trailed off.

He gave her a wry smile, one that was both understanding and partially relieved, and ran a fingertip down the smoothness of her cheek. "Me too," he said slowly. "And you'll never know how special you really are Hermione. I – I just don't want to disappoint you."

"You won't," she encouraged him, rolling over onto her side to get a better look at him. "You never could."

He held a hand to the back of her head and pulled her closer to him. "I already did, last year," he reminded her with regret. "And I never want to again, I never want to see that look on your face, not if I can help it, you have my word," he murmured.

"It's already forgiven and forgotten," she whispered just before he kissed her once more.

~*~

The rush of green flames circled around him as he watched carefully for the correct grate. He had no desire to end up in some unknown place as he did in his second year when he came out in Knockturn Alley. Hermione had already gone ahead of him with a smile and a wink before she disappeared out of sight. Suddenly, his exit flashed before him, and he lurched out of the Weasley's fireplace, his arms darting out in front of him to keep him from smashing his face against the hard floor.

Amused laughter floated down to his ears as he lay for a moment longer, fighting down the nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach after watching grate after grate whiz by in a blur. Slowly he looked up to see two pairs of feet before him, one set much larger than the other.

"Harry, mate," Ron chuckled as he shook his head at his best friend. "You sure know how to make an entrance don't you?"

Hermione smiled softly and nudged Ron in the ribs. "Oh you," she scowled at him before walking over to help Harry to his feet. "Are you alright?" she asked, brushing soot off his clothing as he struggled to a kneeling position. 

He glanced up at her with a slight grin, one lens of his glasses cracked along the top.

"Oh Harry," Hermione rolled her eyes and gave him a look that suggested she was speaking to a two-year-old. 

"What?" he asked innocently, brushing off a few stray ashes from his shirt.

"You've broken your glasses again," she pointed out. "You best take them off so Mrs. Weasley can fix them for you."

He shot her a saucy wink before complying with her order. "But that's what I have you for," he said slyly, handing her his glasses and squinting at her.

She blushed, ignored Ron's strangled grunt of laughter, and helped Harry stand to his feet, making sure he didn't fall over. She didn't have to go far to hunt down Mrs. Weasley.

"Hermione, dear," the plump woman greeted with a wide smile and a hug. "How lovely to see you again. And Harry," she turned to find him looking quite different than she remembered. "Where are your glasses?" she questioned.

"Here," Hermione piped up, extending her hand to show Mrs. Weasley the cracked lens. "He's broken them yet again."

"Oh dear," she muttered, pulling her wand out of her apron pocket. "We'll just see to that," and with a swish, Harry's cracked lens returned to its normal state. "There you are, fit as a fiddle," she smiled.

"Thank you," he said as Hermione handed him his glasses once more.

"No problem dearie," she turned to walk back into the kitchen. "See if you two can motivate Ronald to leave his room," she called over her shoulder. "He's been lying about all summer."

Ron blushed and took the opportunity to glare at his retreating mother's back. "She's been saying that for weeks now," he groaned.

"Well," Hermione gave him a thoughtful look. "Have you started on your homework?"

"Ack!" Ron cried, flinging his hands over his ears. "Trust the Great Brain to bring up homework," he grinned. "And I suppose you finished yours within the first week?" 

Hermione dropped her eyes before gaining her composer and sending Ron a withering glare at his new name for her. "Great Brain," she snorted. "At least I've done mine," she sniffed. "And don't you dare ask me for help Ron Weasley when you don't get it finished in time."

Harry snickered at their banter, knowing full well that an argument between the two of them was inevitable. "It's a wonder you two can even stand to be in the same room sometimes," he chuckled. 

At that, Hermione swung her eyes towards him, forgetting all about Ron momentarily. "And you," she jabbed a finger towards his chest. "Have you done your homework?"

He gulped. "Erm – not exactly," he stuttered.

"Ugh, the both of you," she threw her hands into the air.

"Come on Hermione," Ron whined. "We still have a couple weeks until term starts again, we'll get it done."

"So," Harry intervened before another row could take place. "Maybe we should haul our stuff upstairs," he suggested. "I'm sure your mum doesn't want it sitting in here all day."

Ron nodded and scooped Hermione's belongings off the floor. "You're staying with Ginny again Hermione," he told her as he headed for the stairs.

She nodded and turned to follow him up the winding stairway but stopped when she felt Harry's hand on her arm. With a questioning look, she turned to face him, unable to ask what he needed before his mouth sealed over hers again.

"Love you, and you do have a great brain," he broke off their kiss and whispered in her ear just as Ron's voice came floating down. 

"And none of that mushy stuff!"

~*~

They gathered in Ron's room that was still orange and still decorated with Chudley Cannon posters. The wizards and witches went zooming in and out of the boarders on their broomsticks and their robes flapping in the wind.

"Well," Ron said, flopping down onto his bed. "Now that the two of you are here, what should we do?"

Harry and Hermione both shrugged. "We could go play Quidditch," Harry suggested as Hermione paled.

"Nah," Ron shook his head much to Harry's surprise. "It would be us two since Hermione won't get on a broom, and Fred and George have locked themselves in their room all summer long doing who knows what."

Hermione scowled at her fear of flying, but said nothing in her defense. "Er – well," she stopped to think.

"Don't say it," Ron laughed, his blue eyes twinkling in delight.

"Say what?" she frowned. "And how do you know what I'm going to say Ron Weasley? Unless you've suddenly grown the ability to read minds and you've failed to tell us."

"Hermione, I've known you for almost six years now, I don't need to read your mind," Ron grinned at her. "I can tell by that look in your eye that you were going to suggest homework."

She huffed and looked away, arms crossed and a pout on her face. "Well you can't blame me for trying," she gave up with a long sigh.

They got no further in their discussion of what to do. A tawny owl, handsome and regal in appearance, flew through the open window, lighting softly on the back of Ron's old, wooden desk chair. It made a trilling sound in its throat and stuck out a leg to offer up its letter.

"Whose owl is that?" Hermione asked, glancing at a now red faced Ron.

Harry laughed at Ron's embarrassed look. "What's so funny?" Hermione tore her eyes away from Ron and focused on her chuckling boyfriend.

"Tell me," Harry ignored Hermione's eyes and looked at a very uncomfortable Ron who was slightly squirming on his bed. "Would that be an owl belonging to one Ms. Lavender Brown?" 

"Lavender?" Hermione questioned, her eyes widening and her mouth dropping open as Ron reddened even more. "Do you mean to tell me that you and Lavender…" she broke into a wide smile.

Ron cleared his throat and hopped off his bed, avoiding her eyes as he ambled past her. "I will say nothing," he said vaguely as he fed the owl an owl treat and untied its letter. There was a moment of silence as Ron quickly read the note. Finally he looked up with a dreamy smile and a faint pink color dusting the tips of his ears. "What do you two say about a trip to Diagon Alley?"

~*~

Mrs. Weasley finally let them go alone, after much pleading on Ron's part, since she was still swamped with housework. Even though Ron was sixteen, with Harry not too far behind, she still had some reserves about letting two underage wizards and one witch freely roam through Diagon Alley. Ginny, thankfully, was away with Mr. Weasley and wouldn't be back in time to join them. After promising that they wouldn't step a foot near the entrance to Knockturn Alley, and that they wouldn't spend all their money on sweets and candies, she finally relented. 

Soon they found themselves flying out of the fireplace at The Leaky Cauldron, tumbling onto the worn and faded rug that cushioned their fall, along with many other witches and wizards in the past. Thankfully it wasn't too busy, as it wasn't yet noon. Picking themselves off the floor and bushing away dirt and soot, they flashed Tom, the innkeeper, wide grins and a wave, and then they were off.

They stopped just outside of Florish and Botts. "Look you two," Ron began, his ears turning red with his next words. "I'll meet up with you two in say, an hour?" 

Harry and Hermione shared a smug look and glanced back at him. "Sure, right here?" Harry asked.

"Er – yeah," Ron scratched his head. "I've got to go to Gringott's for something," he muttered.

"You mean Lavender?" Hermione teased.

He only blushed harder.

"That's fine Ron," Harry clapped him on the shoulder, tucked Hermione's arm under his and took a step away from the entrance of the bookstore. "We'll see you in an hour."

Ron gave them both a bright grin and started off, leaving Harry and Hermione to entertain themselves. 

"Come on," Harry pulled her away as she looked in longingly through the windows at the crowded shelves filled with her beloved books. "You can look at those later," he smiled.

She sighed. "I know, but there's this book that I really want," she allowed him to guide her through the street.

Harry chuckled and patted her hand in a loving gesture. "I'll buy you whatever book you want love," he leaned over and kissed her cheek, unmindful of the stares and sudden murmur that began around them. Gossip was being spread like wildfire; Harry Potter was kissing Hermione Granger, and in public. "In fact, I'll buy you the whole store if you'd like."

"Stop it you," she playfully swatted at him, her face flushed from his sudden display of affection. "I don't need scores of books to make me happy," she sighed and held tighter to his arm. "I just need you."

They strolled down the crowded streets, Harry weaving them in and out of the crowd as neatly as you please. They spent the better part of the hour chatting happily, either hand in hand, or with Hermione's arm tucked through his, and sharing a brief kiss or two when they thought no one was watching. They had just passed the opening for Knockturn Alley when Harry froze, his sudden action cutting Hermione off in mid-sentence as people continued to stream around them like flowing water.

"Harry?" she tugged at his arm to gain his attention, her eyebrows knit together in a line of worry. "What is it?"

"Didn't you hear it?" he asked, his voice lowered and his shoulders tense.

"Hear what?" she looked at him curiously, as if he'd suddenly grew two heads. "Harry Potter, if you're hearing talking snakes again…" she trailed off at the look of concentration on his face.

"No, no," he shook his head, turning it this way and that, straining as if to hear something. "It's not that," he glanced carefully over his shoulder towards the shadowed entrance of Knockturn Alley.

Hermione tilted her head to see if she could pick up what he was hearing, and then froze.

"Boy," the faint sound of a weathered voice called softly, sounding as if it were a great distance away from where they stood.

"Harry," Hermione murmured, swallowing thickly.

"Shh," he pressed a finger to his lips in a signal to keep her from asking questions he had no answers for. His green eyes scanned through the crowd, trying his best to locate the source of the call.

"Yes you," the voice cackled, filling his head with its rough and grating sound.

"Okay," he whispered out of the side of his mouth. "Please tell me you heard that."

Wariness filled her eyes as she gripped his arm tighter and nodded once. Stepping in front of him so she could see over his shoulder, she tried to send a casual glance back to where she thought the voice was coming from. The voice laughed again.

"Yes, yes. I've heard about you too, Hermione Granger."

She stiffened in Harry's arms and a brief look of fear crossed her face. Then, one eyebrow arched as her eyes narrowed in thought.

"Come," the voice urged once more and out of the dark shadows of an arched door, a twisted hand poked out, beckoning with a bony finger for them to come closer.

As if it was a dream, Hermione watched as Harry turned away from her and took a step forward. 

"Harry," she hissed and clung tighter. "What are you doing?"

He looked back at her, startled out of his trance-like state by her strong grip and the tone in her voice. Blinking a bit he looked from her back to the door, a lost look upon his face. "I – I don't know," he said honestly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

In truth he didn't know. At hearing the calling voice, something stirred deep within him and he was drawn to the beckoning hand like a moth to a flame. A part of him was greatly intrigued, wondering why an unknown figure would be calling to him. The other part of him was telling him 'no', that he shouldn't venture over to Knockturn Alley as it could be some trick. As he wavered internally, not quite sure of what do to, his feet turned of their own accord and began to take faltering steps towards the voice.

"Can't you feel it Hermione?" he asked, softly.

"Feel what?" she frowned, tightened her hold, and bit her lip.

"It's just, er – well, something in the back of my head is telling me to go find out who's calling us," he shook his head.

"But Harry," Hermione said, a bit more forcefully than she would have. "That's Knockturn Alley!" she pointed out. "We promised Mrs. Weasley we wouldn't go near it."

"I know, I know," he muttered helplessly.

"Besides, what if it's a trick of some sort?" she questioned him further. "A trick by You-Know-Who."

"I offer no tricks Hermione Granger," the voice came again, this time soothing and gentle. "I only ask to talk to you, the both of you, because of an important matter."

"Well?" Harry's green eyes peered into hers.

She sighed, torn between her own curiosity and her desire to not break Mrs. Weasley's trust in them. Finally she gave in, mentally cursing those green eyes that could make her do anything. "Anywhere you go Harry, I'll always follow."

"It'll be okay Hermione," he turned again, grasping her hand tighter in his as he went.

She muttered to herself as she trudged behind him, her mind telling her that things wouldn't be the same after they had their little chat with whoever was calling them. "I hope we don't regret this."


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer**: _You'd be really silly to think that I were to own the wonderful world of Harry Potter, although I wish I did…then that way I could be filthy rich like JK herself. But, unfortunately for me, I don't and I can't even begin to write like her. I guess I'll have to remain the broke college student I am. So, no, nothing belongs to me…but you knew that didn't you? Oh yeah, I've just realized that I spelt Dylan Thomas's name wrong, I'll try and go back and fix it on the first chapter as well. _

**Author's Note**: _What can I say except that I'm extremely flattered that you all like this story. Honestly, I wasn't too sure of how it would go over since I've never written a sequel before. All I can say to you is thank you, and I hope I don't let you down. I was hoping to get this chapter out right away, but unfortunately for me, I got stuck somewhere in the middle of it. I hope you don't find it as a pathetic excuse for a chapter and there maybe a few spelling errors that I've overlooked. Oh yes, a warning to you…there's a very long response to a review ahead…you don't have to read it, but I thought I'd let you know so you can skip over it if you wish._

_To my reviewers, old and new alike: Sammac, SweetHeart, HoGwArTs fLiRt12, Melbell, Stoneheart, Amy, flying*duck,_ _anonymous, Webmaster Pikachu, the great youth of smallness, SoccerChic3485, Hermharry_

_~*~_

**_Stoneheart_**_: I see I'm going to have to leave you a very long note in light of your reviews, well, I don't have too, but I will. To begin with, I owe you my humble apologizes, you're quite right; I should have told you that I'd begun another story. And although you couldn't be the first, your comments and thoughts are always welcome and much appreciated, no matter what number reviewer you are._

_You've got some pretty good ideas as to who the "Master" could be…and I will neither confirm nor deny them, it ruins the suspense and what fun would that be? I'll guess I'll just have to keep you guessing, but that may prove difficult for me to do. And yes, you're right, the use of "their" is incorrect, it was just the only way I could keep the identity hidden for now. But thanks for pointing that out…I can be rather dense at times. _

_As for portkey…most of the other stories I've read there make mine seem so pale and sickly in comparison, that I'm hesitant to even try. I may give it a go, and I may not…but you can't hex me if I don't. You…not good enough? I refuse to believe that, because in my opinion, you are. You write the same way you write reviews, with great eloquence, insight, and detail…never doubt that for one minute. _

_Oh yes, to comment on something else you left in your review…I haven't spent that much time lounging on the beach. I'm sick of being told that I'd make a good pillow (honestly, as if hearing that line will just make me throw myself at them) or that someone wants to marry me, or seeing people that shouldn't be, well I'll leave it at that…they shouldn't be doing a lot of things . _

_It is a beautiful place though, and I encourage everyone to visit at least once in their lifetime, it's quite the experience…just ignore the people wandering around either topless (I'm not a prude, I just don't want to see it) or wearing Speedos when they're like 80. Er – I hope that doesn't offend anyone…that certainly isn't my intention. It's just I would never subject anyone to the horror that is me like that. Ugh, I shudder to think of it._

_~*~_

_Alright then, now that that last bit is longer than my Author's Note, lets move forward shall we? I'm sure you want too…I can be rather long winded sometimes. Enjoy! _

~*~

**Rage, rage, against the dying of the light…**

**Dylan Thomas**

~*~

The building loomed before them, emerging from the shadows of Knockturn Alley like a ghost ship sailing out of the fog. Gray and withered, much like the hand that had beckoned them only moments before, it stood next to a row of pristine shops, looking dirty and ragged in comparison. Fashioned out of mud colored bricks and cracked stone, stained and worn smooth by the endless blowing of wind and sand, it looked empty and lifeless, a mere shell. A set of crooked, flagstone steps led up to solid oak doors, scarred and splintered and decorated with ornate iron designs. Everything about the little store seemed dark and forbidden, including the arched windows, which punctured the exterior with their dirty glass and looked out at the approaching guests like frowning eyes; narrowed and spiteful. The sign that creaked on rusty hinges above the door, lettered in crimson and a flowing Gothic script, read: _Madam Lissette's Crystal Gazing and Ancient Artifacts._

"Harry," Hermione whispered softly as they stepped closer, half hoping he'd give up his foolish quest and turn back. "I don't like this," she could feel fear pricking the back of her throat with its bitter fingers, threatening to weaken her resolve and send her scurrying back to the familiar and friendly territory of Diagon Alley.

"Come," the voice called out from the recesses of the building in response to her hushed comment. "There's nothing to fear from me, not from me, the poor, lowly shopkeeper that I am."

She took a deep breath, drawing upon the inner courage and strength that had placed her in Gryffindor, swallowed the ball of fear lodged in her throat down to a manageable level, and did her best to keep up with Harry's long strides. If he had heard her muttered words, he didn't show any signs of it, which Hermione couldn't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing. The walk to the vaulted doorway was short, despite the amount of people that seemed to come in between them and their destination like a raging flood. Slightly dragging her feet and lagging behind her determined boyfriend, she could feel the uneasy feeling return, growing in the pit of her stomach with every step. 

The hand that had gestured to them only moments before, had slipped soundlessly through the double oak doors, leaving them open a foot or so to allow the visitors access to the shop. Together they climbed the uneven stairs and hesitated, unsure of whether they should just walk inside or if they should knock first to announce their arrival.

"Come," the voice called out again before Harry even had time to lift his hand. "Please, come in. Don't be shy."

They did, Harry first and Hermione following him, still keeping her tight hold on his hand as if trying to draw some of his strength and courage into herself. She'd never been the clingy type, as she always preferred to stand on her own two feet. But something in the woman's grating voice caused her to latch onto him, almost as if it was more for his protection than hers, although she couldn't imagine why. Harry had certainly seen his fair share of evil, even more so than the average adult wizard and witch combined, to be able to protect them both. 

Once inside, both had to squint at the sudden loss of light as they looked round. Long glass counters, their tops wiped free of any dust or streaks, ran on either side of the room. Filled with dark and ancient looking artifacts of a magical world long forgotten, or at least ignored by those that wished to forget an earlier time, they called out for patrons to stop and browse. Old wooden crates, their slats nailed together crookedly, were lined up on the floor along the free spaces against the walls, and were filled with crumbling and yellowed scrolls, the words on them written in a language neither could decipher. From the rafters, multiple herbs and roots dangled in clusters on thick strings, scenting the air with their spicy aroma and mixing with the thick, curling smoke of the incense pots that were scattered liberally throughout. The end result was a nauseating sweet smell that had Harry and Hermione both fighting the urge to gag.

One of the glass counters contained various rings, bracelets, necklaces, medallions and pendants, each laid neatly on soft cloth, some looking beautiful and harmless; pleasing to the eye, while others seemed to ooze with dark magic; powerful and magnetic. On the walls, shelves were packed with odds and ends, giving the rather large room a cluttered and lived in feeling. In a rusty, iron cage, a ragged crow was sleeping, its frayed feathers rustling every once in awhile as it drew a breath. A black curtain was strung across a doorway leading even farther back into the building. 

Near the back of the dim enclosure, small, glittering gray eyes peered out at them from beneath a cascade of equally gray hair that was stringy and thin as it fell over them like a veil. A hood was pulled up over her head, shadowing the rest of her features from view. The twisted hands were tucked neatly inside the large sleeves of her faded black robe, and while it looked as though her build was frail, her back was stooped, as if she was carrying a great weight upon her shoulders.

"Welcome," the hood bobbed up and down in greeting. "To Madam Lissette's," Harry and Hermione both nodded in greeting, neither knowing exactly what to say. "I'm am she," Lissette hobbled forward in slow, shuffling steps across the wooden floor.

There was a slight pause before Harry suddenly cleared his throat and remembered his manners. "Pleasure to meet you," he extended his free hand. "I'm…"

"Harry Potter," Lissette said for him, finishing in a cackle and ignoring his outstretched hand as she came to a stop before him, her eyes darting up to his scar. A small patch of light cut through the darkness of her hood and exposed the rest of her face. Her complexion was bone white, as if she hadn't seen the sun in years and giving it an almost translucent appearance. Her skin was lined with deep wrinkles and speckled liberally with dark liver spots, suggesting that she'd seen more than a few years pass her by. "And you," her beady eyes swung to face Hermione. "Are Hermione Granger."

"Yes," she nodded stiffly, not quite sure of what to make of the old woman. "May I ask, how is it that you know who I am?" she cocked her head to the side in thought. "Harry everyone knows…but me?"

Lissette cackled again. "Everyone knows you," her lips pulled back in a sneer. "At least they do now," she pointed to her copy of The Daily Prophet lying on the counter, face up. The front page screamed its headline in large bold letters:

**Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, dating classmate and best friend, Hermione Granger**

"Ugh," Hermione's face paled as she read the headline that was accompanied by a very large, very recent, picture of Harry kissing her on the cheek. She watched incredulously as her picture self flushed and shyly gazed up at the picture Harry and her hands curled possessively around his own. "Honestly, stupid sodding reporters," she grumbled, her face taking on the beginning stages of a burning blush as she wavered between becoming very angry and very embarrassed at the same time. "They can never mind their own business," she huffed and cast a final look at the article. "It's that detestable Rita Skeeter," she glared at the by-line. "When I get my hands on her," she bit her lip to keep from saying anything more.

Harry merely smiled as he overlooked the article from his spot next to her. "It was bound to happen," he said soothingly and gave her a grin, trying to calm her down. "We knew someone would find out sometime," he shrugged. "Better now then later. Besides, she's not writing lies is she? I mean, I don't mind everyone knowing that I'm dating the smartest and most beautiful witch in the wizarding world," he winked at her.

"Flattery will get you no where Potter," she fought to keep down a grin at his words. 

"Really?" he arched an eyebrow. "I'll have to tell Sirius that he gave me faulty advice on girls," his eyes sparkled in laughter.

"Git," she shook her head and relented with a long sigh. Suddenly she was aware of the woman standing before them, watching with sharp eyes and her attention snapped back to the situation at hand. "Sorry," she muttered, feeling rather foolish that Lissette was present during their little exchange. "What is it that you wanted to talk to us about?" she was suddenly all business. "We heard you calling to us on the street."

A shadow passed over the elderly woman's face, turning her eyes to a turbulent gray, like a storm sweeping over the ocean. "I have but one warning to give you," her voice dropped lower, taking on a deeper, raspy tone. "I have seen it in my gazing and I've heard it whispered on the winds. The place that you consider to be a safe haven will become a playground of sorrow and tears," she muttered, almost as if she was talking to herself and not them at all. "The animus caterra has returned, someone has set him free," she paused, allowing her morbid words to sink in. "And he is hungry and desperate to restore himself to his former glory." 

Harry and Hermione shared a look of apprehension at her warning.

"Are you afraid of the dark?" Lissette went on, ignoring the silence between them.

"Excuse me?" Hermione blinked in surprise, a bit taken aback that a total stranger would ask such a childish question, especially following such a depressing prophecy. "Did you just ask us if we were afraid of the dark?" she cast a look at an equally baffled Harry.

Lissette nodded, her mouth set in a thin line as she continued to stare at them with her stormy eyes.

"Er – well," she scratched her head and shifted slightly on her feet. "I can't speak for Harry, but no, I haven't been afraid of the dark since well, since I was a child and I thought there was a monster under my bed," then she snorted, unable to contain herself any longer. "I can't believe you're serious in asking us that," she fought the urge to roll her eyes. 

Madam Lissette regarded her with a hard look, squinting in what looked like disbelief. "You are either incredibly brave, or undeniably foolish," she responded calmly. "I'm not certain as to which."

Harry shot Lissette a look of utter shock at her comment. No one ever doubted Hermione's intelligence or her bravery, not after everything that they'd been through.

Hermione's face was slowly turning red and her eyes snapped in a surge of anger. "Are you telling me," she scoffed at the insult she'd just received. "That _you're_ afraid of the dark?" her eyebrows raised slightly.

"Child," Lissette began slowly, not caring in the least bit that the young woman before her was fuming and received a glare in response to the word 'child'. "If you've seen what I have, you would be, in fact, you would be terrified. For you will face a horror worse than any imaginary monster under your bed."

"And why is that?" she demanded, ignoring Harry's pleading look to stop. "I have no reason to fear the dark."

Lissette chuckled, sounding more like a ruthless cackle. Her lips pulled back and revealed a set of blackened teeth. "Oh but you do," her laughter faded away, her insane grin turning into a sneer as her face fell back into the lines and wrinkles of a weathered hag. "You do. There are things that move in the dark, where even the angels fear to tread. Things that strike terror deep into the hearts of even the bravest men and that have no name save one…Umbra Antitheus. Things that make your skin crawl and your heart stop."

Harry remained silent, eyes downcast on the floor underneath his shoes as Lissette continued to lecture Hermione, something that rarely happened. He sucked in a breath when he felt her turn her burning eyes from Hermione to him. "He is," she said knowingly, satisfaction lacing her words. "I can see it in his eyes," a bony finger extended out to point directly at him. "Aren't you boy?"

He swallowed hard, his mind racing with all his past encounters with Voldemort. Sudden flashes of cruel, red eyes, bared teeth, and searing pain rolled through him like a shudder. He took a deep breath before answering her. "Not of the dark itself," he began softly and chose his words carefully, feeling Hermione's steady gaze on him. He was about to admit something that even she didn't know about him. "But of what can happen in the dark."

Lissette nodded at his words, the smile returning and growing on her face until her thin lips stretched across her teeth, giving her the appearance of a grinning skull. "And you should be," she inched closer to him, her voice dropping into a menacing whisper as her eyes bore into his with a wicked and knowing look. "Even though you have seen more evil than most have. But, I will tell you only this," she paused. "Beware the things you cannot see," she continued to stare at him. "And the things you cannot touch. For when the candle light flickers, and the light of the flames cannot reach into the darkest shadows and the hair stands up on the back of your neck, it is watching, and waiting."

Hermione could contain herself no longer and rolled her eyes in annoyance. "If you have something to say I wish you'd just come out and say it," she snapped. "I don't have time for ridiculous riddles or cynical fortune tellers," she huffed out a breath and crossed her arms. "And what the devil is the animus caterra? Or do I get another cryptic message?" she was offended and Harry knew it, although he couldn't do anything to calm her down.

"Never let the lights go out," she didn't offer to answer Hermione's question, much to her chagrin, and continued to speak, directing every word to Harry. "For it is in the darkness and shadows that it moves, flowing like deadly smoke, soundless and odorless. Only in the light are you safe."

"Harry," Hermione finally had enough and turned towards him, trying to gain his attention. "It's been over an hour," she pointed out, slightly raising her eyebrows and glancing towards the door. "We need to be meeting up with Ron and Lavender soon," she hinted.

"Er – right then," Harry mumbled and scratched the back of his head. He was suddenly reminded of his second year when Dobby had come with another warning about his return to Hogwarts, although not as sinister. "Erm – thank you?" he looked at Lissette with a thousand questions flooding his eyes.

"Heed my warning," Lissette moved away from them to step behind a counter and began rummaging through her goods. "Even if you do not take me seriously," she paused and sent a knowing look at Hermione. "Store it in the back of your memory, evil walks the earth yet again…do not forget."

"We'll remember," Hermione offered sweetly while gritting her teeth, and practically shoved Harry towards the door when she wasn't looking. "Thank you and have a good day."

They had just stepped outside when Lissette stopped them once again. "Mr. Potter," she called. "This may help you," a flash of gold sailed through the air and he caught it just as he would catch the Snitch, nimbly and gracefully. "Perhaps the Necklace of Tears will help you understand."

He opened his mouth to say something in response when Hermione firmly shook her head and guided him away from the loony woman. 

"In shadows and dreams," the old hag whispered to herself as she watched them leave through the streaked glass of her windows. "They are always watching. Be prepared Harry Potter, for the time is coming when your strength and love shall be tested by fire and sorrow. And you Hermione Granger, will believe."

~*~

"Really, have you ever heard something so absurd?" Hermione was still steaming as they hurried out of Knockturn Alley. "Scared of the dark, humph," she scowled. "What was the woman thinking?"

Harry walked beside her, not bothering to offer up his own thoughts about their strange encounter as Hermione continued to vent.

"Harry?" she turned to look at him, pausing in her own ramblings. 

"Er – well," he stuttered as they made their way through the streets towards Flourish and Botts. "There could be something worth remembering about what she said," he didn't look at her.

"Harry," she looked at him in surprise. "Please, please don't tell me you believed her," she looked imploringly at him. "She's probably just a crazy old woman who likes to make up faulty predictions to scare people."

"But," he began, remembering Professor Trelawney's predictions in his third year and her most recent one from last term. "What if she's telling the truth Hermione?" he raked a hand through his hair. "It's got to mean something," there was worry in his eyes.

"Fine," Hermione conceded, wanting to be fair and look at things from every side, even though everything inside her was hesitant to believe a word the woman had spoken. "What if she is?" she asked. "But what does she expect us to do? Sleep with the lights on every night?" she shook her head and gave him a hard look. "I may not always trust your judgment Harry, and you know how I feel about Divination and fortune telling. But if you feel that she's telling us even one ounce of truth, then I'll help you anyway I can."

~*~

"There you two are! It's about bloody time!" Ron's voice rang out loudly, drawing stern glances from other shoppers near him and getting a scowl and an elbow in the ribs from a red faced Lavender. "Oww," he rubbed his side. "What was that for?" he asked her. "They're the ones that are late," a look of childlike petulance on his freckled face. 

"Git," Lavender shook her head, her blonde hair swinging gently across her shoulders as she tried to hide a smile at his forlorn expression. "Just because they're late doesn't mean you have to cause a scene," she pointed out patiently. 

"Sorry," Hermione said hurriedly before Ron could say anything more. "We got distracted and lost track of time," she trailed off as they came to a stop in front of them.

His blue eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at both of them in turn. "Distracted you say?" he arched an eyebrow, crossed his long arms, and sniggered. "Oh I'm sure you were distracted," he reached behind him and withdrew a copy of The Daily Prophet from his back pocket. "In fact, everyone knows just how distracted the two of you were," he shook his head and waved the paper at them.

Hermione blushed as she saw their picture yet again. Snatching the newspaper from his hand, she rolled it back up with a scowl. "For your information," she smacked him on the arm with it. "That is _not the reason we were late," she propped her hands on her hips and gave him an exasperated look._

"Oh?" the eyebrow went up even higher. "Well I just assumed and all," he shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, my best friends say they'll meet me in an hour, they're late, and there's a picture of them kissing on the front page of The Daily Prophet," he tilted his head to the side. "What was I supposed to think?"

"Stop being an ass Ron," Lavender scowled again, giving him another sharp jab with her elbow at his insinuations of Harry and Hermione's actions. "If Hermione says they were sidetracked by something else, then that's what happened," she gave him a level stare.

He bit his lip and sighed, slightly unnerved by her stern look. "You're right Lav," he smiled and gave up his teasing. "Sorry Hermione, I didn't mean to make you mad," he apologized and rubbed the back of his neck. "Really I didn't." 

Lavender beamed at him, letting him know that he was temporarily back in her good graces, at least until he made another thoughtless comment. At her look, he felt the heat color his ears. "So," he cleared his throat and did his best to hide his goofy grin. "What were you really doing then? Lavender and I were wondering when you'd turn up."

"We," Hermione shot a look at Harry who had yet to speak since meeting up with Ron and Lavender. A slight frown creased her forehead as she noted his silence and the look of concentration on his face. She stored it in the back of her mind, deciding to talk to him about it later and hoping he wasn't cross with her. "Were talking to a crackpot Seer," she rolled her eyes before remembering Lavender's love of Divination, and the mystical and mystifying Professor Trelawney. _Mystical and mystifying indeed_, Hermione snorted inwardly. _More like the moronic and mental Professor Trelawney._

"Sorry Lavender," she apologized hastily. 

Lavender only shrugged her slim shoulders. "Divination isn't for everyone," she said with a smile and a toss of her head. "And not everyone who dabbles in Divination is really a true Seer like Professor Trelawney."

At her comment, Ron stifled a grunt, Hermione fought to keep her lips from twitching, and Harry said nothing. Lavender remained blissfully unaware of their actions.

"Harry," Ron had sidled over to him during the lull in their conversation, and to keep from bursting out into wild laughter. "What's wrong with you? Cat got your tongue?" then he snickered and a sly look filled his eyes as he glanced at an unsuspecting Hermione. "Or, in this case I suppose I should say, Hermione got your tongue?" he joked crudely, forgetting what sharp elbows Lavender had and that a slap from Hermione could rearrange his facial features. 

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione spit out with a horrified breath and moved to smack him yet again.

"Oh no, allow me," Lavender offered and cuffed him on the back of his head with her open hand, saving Hermione the trouble, before he could move out of the way. "Prat," she admonished him with an appalled look on her face.

"Oww," he ruefully rubbed the stinging spot, mentally noting that he shouldn't make Lavender mad either. "What?" he asked, innocently, knowing full well why she'd hit him.

Lavender huffed. "Have you ever heard of tact Ron? Use it sometime," she glowered and crossed her arms. "Heaven's, what were you thinking?"

"Ugh," he rolled his eyes. "But Lavender, they're my best friends; they know when I'm kidding," he paused. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he rushed out another apology when he saw both sets of eyes narrow. "I'm sorry," he said more sincerely. "Really," he sent one of his ear to ear grins to Lavender, turning her harsh look softer.

"Girls," he muttered out of the side of his mouth to the silent boy next to him. "None of them can take a joke…right Harry?"

"Hmm?" Harry finally looked up; startled out of whatever deep thought he was in. "What was that Ron?" he blinked in confusion.

Ron's eyes narrowed again. "What's up with him?" he asked Hermione with a questioning look on his face. She and Lavender hadn't heard his last comment, thankfully.

Hermione bit her lip in concentration. "Let's go somewhere else and talk," she suggested as she shifted to the side to allow someone to reach the door of the bookstore. "It's too crowded around here."

~*~

They were seated at a table near an empty corner at the ice cream parlor, half filled bowls before them, as Hermione began to recite what had happened. Harry added here and there with a nod or an occasional grunt of some sort. Across from them, Ron and Lavender listened with rapt attention, after of course; Ron expressed his jealousy that they had gone into Knockturn Alley without him. When she'd finished, Ron let out a low whistle from between his teeth and Lavender leaned forward in interest.

"And who told you all this?" she asked, her blue eyes narrowing in concentration after Hermione had finished recounting the tale "What was her name?"

"Erm – Madam Lissette," Hermione frowned in thought, trying to conjure up an image of the wooden sign to make sure it was the correct name. "Yes, yes, Madam Lissette. What?" she asked as Lavender's face turned a shade lighter.

"You're completely sure it was Madam Lissette?" she gaped at her, a look of awe filling her wide eyes.

"That's what she said her name was," Hermione shared a confused look with Ron and Harry. "And the one that was on the sign. Why?"

Lavender cleared her throat. "Madam Lissette is one of the most sought after Seers in our time. Even Professor Trelawney thinks highly of her," she informed them. "I've read about her in a Divination history text at Hogwarts. But there wasn't that much information regarding her, just a small part saying that she's a bit of a recluse, keeps to herself and all. She's known for giving rather sensational readings, though some of them have been slightly depressing," she tapped a fingernail on the tabletop, trying to remember more information. "But all of her predictions she's given over the years, have come true. She's been around for ages, although most people have to schedule an appointment weeks out to have her read for them."

"Obviously this is one of her depressing ones," Harry said, wryly, speaking for the first time.

Hermione gulped, inwardly praying and hoping that Lavender was talking about a different Madam Lissette, and not the withered woman they'd just talked too. "Did it say where she is based out of? Where her shop is?"

"Here," Lavender nodded sagely. "In Knockturn Alley."

Hermione gulped; the feeling of fear that had pricked her throat had now sent a rod of ice down her spine. "So," she began hesitantly. "Let me make sure I understand this Lavender. Are you saying we should be worried?" she shared a look with Harry who looked back with a resigned look on his face.

"Yes Hermione," Lavender gave a slow, deliberate nod. "I know you don't put much faith in Divination, but trust me on this. If you've talked to Madam Lissette, then that's exactly what I'm saying."

At that, Ron gave another whistle and looked at Harry. "Well mate," he began with some trepidation in his eyes. "I think we're in for a hell of a year."

"Right then," Hermione said briskly, masking the ominous feeling she had with bossiness. "First things first I say, we need to find out exactly what this animus caterra is," she began to plan their course of action with all the strategy of a seasoned general. "Which means…"

"A trip to the library," Ron finished for her with a weary groan. "And endless research."

"Well, I'm all ears if you've got a better plan Ron," Hermione pretended not to hear the despondent sound in his voice.

He only shook his head 'no' and reached out to rest his arm on the back of Lavender's chair, his eyes downcast.

Beside her, Harry let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his temples, a headache was forming. Dull and throbbing, it threatened to engulf him completely. "Ugh," he grunted as Hermione reached over to lay a soothing hand on his shoulder. "It's always one thing after another isn't it? Overgrown snakes, Voldemort, Malfoy," he didn't see the uneasiness in their eyes when he said the Dark Lord's name out loud. "And now something that creeps around in the dark that we should be scared of," he paused and dropped his eyes. "Why can't I ever have a normal year?" he asked no one in particular. 

There was a brief moment of silence until Ron's snort broke it. "Because," he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "You're Harry Potter," and he left it at that.

"Sometimes," Harry whispered to the table and only loud enough for Hermione to hear. "I wish I wasn't."

~*~

The rest of their stay in Diagon Alley was rather somber, each person lost in their own thoughts about Madam Lissette's prediction. As there wasn't a library for Hermione to visit, her plans were put on hold until she returned to Hogwarts for their sixth year, much to her dismay. Soon it was time for Harry, Hermione, and Ron to return back to the Burrow, with a promise to Lavender that they'd see her on the Hogwarts Express in a few weeks and a good-bye kiss from a blushing Ron.

"There you three are," Mrs. Weasley came breezing through the living room, an apron still tied around her plump waist. "I was wondering when you'd come back."

"Sorry," Ron muttered as he rubbed the ashes from his hair. "We kind of lost track of time."

Mrs. Weasley looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "And how was Lavender?" she asked with a smile. 

Ron nearly gagged at that, his ears turning a flaming red. "F – fine," he stuttered and scuffed his shoes on the floor, not daring to meet his mother's gaze.

"She's such a nice girl," Mrs. Weasley sighed, not caring that she was embarrassing her youngest son to death. 

Behind Ron, Harry and Hermione suppressed their own smiles and laughter at Mrs. Weasley's comments, knowing that it would only embarrass Ron further if they were to act on them.

"Dinner will be ready soon," she finally dropped the subject and started off for the kitchen again. "I hope you didn't spoil your appetites with junk food," she admonished them.

"No Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said sweetly. "We're starved," she shrugged her shoulders in a silent apologize to both boys. The truth was, none of them were the least bit hungry, their minds being preoccupied with other thoughts than food. 

"Yeah mum," Ron took over the lie, glad that his mother's back was to him so she wouldn't see past it. "Starved."

"Good," she called back. "Your dad and Ginny should be home any minute," she glanced at the clock. "In fact, they're on their way now," the hands for Mr. Weasley and Ginny were switching to 'home'.

"Come on," Ron suggested and headed for the stairs. "Let's go upstairs for a bit."

They began their climb; stopping only once when Harry announced that he needed to use the bathroom and that he'd join them in Ron's room when he was finished. Ron and Hermione both nodded and continued, leaving Harry by himself.

"Not a word of this to your mum," Hermione reminded him with a stern glance as he pushed open the door.

"What do you take me for?" Ron was indignant. "I'm not a bloody fool Hermione, despite what other people think," his eyes narrowed slightly. "She'd blow her top if she knew you and Harry went skulking about in Knockturn Alley."

She sighed and flopped down on his bed. "I know Ron," she chewed on her bottom lip. "Sorry, I guess what Madam Lissette and Lavender said really put me on edge. I didn't mean to imply that you'd go spouting off to your mum, or anyone for that matter."

Ron nodded in acceptance of her apology as he leaned up against the wall and folded his long arms around him. "I know," he rubbed his face with both hands. "And I know what you mean about being put on edge and all," he cast a quick glance towards the door, making sure that Harry wasn't going to walk through it at any second. "What do you think Hermione?" he asked, his forehead wrinkling in concern.

"About what?" she had been lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling, when he asked his question.

He paused. "About Harry."

"What about him?" she pushed herself into a sitting position, tucking her long legs underneath her and looked at him warily. 

He scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," it was his turn to sigh. "I mean, how do you think he's going to hold up with all this?" he spread his hands. "He didn't look too good when we left Diagon Alley," he sighed again. "He's right you know? He never has had a normal year."

"I know," Hermione said softly and her eyes went thoughtful as she considered Ron's question. "I don't know how he'll react really," she finally admitted. "You know Harry just as well as I do, he usually tries to hide anything that he's feeling."

"Yeah, I know. Let's just hope it doesn't come down to a repeat performance of last term," Ron grumbled at the memory.

"Oh no," Hermione shook her head determinedly. "He won't even have a chance. Not if he knows what's good for him," she crossed her arms. "I'll talk to him Ron," she said after a moment of silence. "He can't hide everything from us."

Ron smiled. "You mean he can't hide everything from you," he shook his head. "Let's face it Hermione, you know that boy inside and out."

She flushed and smiled sheepishly. Just then, the door opened and Harry slipped inside. "And what are you two up too?" he queried as he sat down on the bed next to Hermione.

"Nothing much," she shrugged and reached over to grasp his hand. "Just talking."

"Oh?" he arched an eyebrow. "About what?"

He got no further in his questioning when Ron's bedroom door opened yet again. This time, it was Ginny Weasley that poked her head around the corner.

"Harry!" she squealed in delight, her green eyes taking on a new shine to them when she caught sight of him.

"Hey Gin," he returned with a smile, clutching Hermione's hand a bit tighter than necessary. Although she'd admitted defeat in winning Harry's heart, one could never be too careful, especially when it was one's best friend's younger sister. 

"Hermione!" she exclaimed with the same fervor that she'd greeted Harry with. "You're both here!"

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Your brother was only too kind to invite us both," she shrugged and gave Harry's hand a sympathetic squeeze. "So, here we are."

"Excellent," Ginny was all smiles as she looked from one to the other. "When did you arrive?" she asked, propping herself up against the doorframe and crossing her arms.

"This afternoon," Harry replied, thankful that she didn't appear to be the least bit upset at seeing them together. "We've actually just gotten back from Diagon Alley."

"So I've heard," Ginny scowled and shot a look at her brother. "And I've missed it because I had to go with dad to see ancient Aunt Ida," she wrinkled her nose. "Her house smells of dirty socks," she winced in memory.

Ron tried to bite back a smile at his sister's grumbling. "Sorry Gin," he snickered.

"Stuff it," she snipped. "You have to go next time," she grinned in supreme satisfaction at his crestfallen look. "You only got out of it because mum said you didn't have to go."

"And I'm eternally thankful for that," Ron said smugly. "I have no desire to be fawned over by her," he shuddered.

"No," Harry decided to join in. "You'd rather be fawned over by Lavender," he chuckled as Ron's face turned a deep red.

"Stop," Hermione chided him gently and swatted him on the arm. 

"Oh all right," Harry gave in and sent her a guilty grin.

"Anyway," Ginny cleared her throat and straightened from her position by the door. "I've been sent to tell you that dinner is ready."

 "Thanks," Ron shoved away from the wall as Harry and Hermione both rose from their place on the bed. "We'll be right down."

~*~

Once dinner was over and the table cleared, with the help of Hermione and Ginny, Harry excused himself, wanting to slip away from the hustle and bustle of a packed Weasley house to sit on their garden bench, wrapped up in silence and thought as he watched the sun slip beyond the horizon. He hadn't eaten or spoken much during their meal, preferring to let those around him do the chattering. 

"Harry?" Hermione's soft voice cut through his thoughts like a knife.

"Hmm?" he turned his head ever so slightly to squint at her through the growing darkness, a slight smile playing about his lips. "What's wrong Hermione? Are you alright?" he took in the look of worry on her face as she stood next to him and his face became serious.

Her heart quickened at his words. Here she was coming out to see if he was doing alright and he was asking if there was something wrong with her. "No, nothing's wrong," she shook her head and smiled to prove it. "Can I join you?" she motioned to the bench with her hand as her teeth worried her bottom lip while she waited for his okay.

He chuckled and held out his hand to her in an inviting gesture. "Of course," he grinned and pulled her into his lap before she had the chance to sit down next to him on the bench. "You never have to ask Hermione," he sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist as she settled her head against his shoulder.

"Well, I didn't want to bother you," she said quietly, trailing one hand through the soft hair at the back of his neck while the other hand rested lightly on his shoulder.

He glanced down at her, his eyes awash with love and affection for the girl he held in his arms. "You could never bother me," he leaned forward slightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Never."

She smiled and slid her free hand up to run lightly across his face, mentally noting the fact that he should start shaving soon. "I love you Harry," she whispered, her eyes growing softer in the fading light and tilted her face up to his.

He dipped his head to meet hers and placed a gentle kiss against her lips. "I love you too," he breathed out after he pulled away and caught her hand in his to press a kiss on her palm. "So," he began nonchalantly as he traced his thumb over her knuckles. "What's up?"

"What makes you think anything is up?" she teased him with a raised eyebrow.

He shot her his crooked grin, the same one that made her knees weak when she saw it. "I can tell by that look in your eyes," he tapped the end of her nose with his finger. "So, spill," he settled her more comfortably in his arms as he waited for her to speak.

She hesitated for a moment, fixing her eyes on the hedge that ran along the Weasley's garden. The thick, green foliage was twinkling from multiple fireflies that were nestled among its thick branches, casting a soft glow into the night. Above them, the first signs of stars began to poke through the inky sky, dotting it here and there with shimmering white. A soft breeze filled their senses with the scent of Mrs. Weasley's flowers; creating a private world that only the two of them were inhabitants of. "Are you going to be alright?" she finally blurted out, unsure of any other way she could broach the subject that had been on her mind ever since Diagon Alley.

He was taken aback at her sudden question. "Er – why wouldn't I be?" he asked, confused.

She flushed, thankful that the evening covered it from his view. "Well, I – I," she shifted slightly in his lap so that her back was now pressed against his chest. "You know, after everything that happened today, I just wanted to make sure you'd be alright and all," she trailed off.

He didn't answer with words, at least not right away, just tightened his hold on her and pulled her closer to his chest. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he drank in the scent of her hair, relishing in the fact that she seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms. She could feel the steady beat of his heart against her, slow and sure, while she waited for his answer.

Finally, he did. "As long as I've got you Hermione," he whispered, his breath tickling her neck. "I'm more than alright," he kissed her under her ear and caused her to shiver in his arms. "I can do anything. But thank you for being so concerned about me."

"You're welcome," she sighed in contentment, fully enjoying the sensations he was creating inside her, swirling around and around like warm water. "Harry?" she whispered once again after making sure her voice was steady.

"What is it love?" his face was now pressed into her hair, rather than on her shoulder or her neck.

"You're not mad at me are you?" she asked slowly.

"Mad?" he frowned. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Well, you know," she faltered for the right words. "I – I wasn't exactly all that open-minded when we left Madam Lissette's today, and you haven't said much to me since then."

"I'm not mad at you Hermione," he was quick to assure her. "And I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was. I guess I was just thinking things over."

"It's okay," she curled a hand into the fold of his shirt, basking in the sense of safety that followed him around like a cloud. "Harry?" she whispered again.

"Yes?" there was a hint of laughter in his tone.

"Are you really afraid of the dark?" she asked in a small voice.

It was his turn to sigh and he waited for a few seconds before answering. "Yes and no," he admitted as he ran his fingers through her hair, letting the silky strands slip between his fingers. "It's not that the dark scares me so much, I mean, I can face Voldemort," he felt her shudder at his name. "But I guess what I'm more afraid of is what can happen to others in the dark," he paused. "I, I never did tell you what happened during the Triwizard Tournament did I?" he stuttered out suddenly.

"No," she answered softly. 

"Do you want to know?" he licked his suddenly dry lips.

"Only if you want to tell me," she turned her head so she could look into his eyes. Usually they were shinning with happiness, or twinkling in devilish mischief due to some prank he and Ron would be cooking up. This time they neither shone nor twinkled, but they were sad and hollow instead. "You know you don't have too though," she reminded him gently.

"No, no, I want to tell you," he said slowly. "I should have told you last year, but," he shrugged, not wanting to dredge up that particular painful memory although he always seemed to come back to it, like a vicious, never-ending circle that he couldn't break away from. "You and Ron are my best friends, I – I shouldn't have shut you out like I did."

"Stop it," she placed a hand over his lips to stop his flow of words. Her eyes were burning in their gaze. "When are you going to forgive yourself Harry like the rest of us have?" the look on her face was begging him to let it go and rid himself of the past.

He swallowed hard, unable to ignore the pleading look in her eyes. "When I think I've made up for it," he said hoarsely. 

"Will you try if I told you you've more than made up for it?" she tenderly stroked his cheek, wishing she had the power to make him let it go. "Please?"

He shivered lightly at the touch of her hand and his heart fluttered wildly in his chest. "Hermione…" his eyes slipped closed and he drew in a deep breath.

"Don't," she shook her head. "It's time to stop living in the past Harry Potter," she implored him to understand. "Everyone else has accepted what happened for what it was, when will you?" she bit her lip again. "You have a big heart, and you care more for others than yourself, which is why you did what you did…albeit not in a way I would have chosen. But it's time to move on. Let it go Harry, if not for me, then do it for you."

He smiled gently. "How can I say no to that?" his eyes swept over her features. "I can't make any promises Hermione, but I'll do my best to let it go," he licked his lips. "Why on earth did you ever fall in love with me?" he asked after a short pause.

"How could I not?" she asked simply, combing back the hair that fell over his forehead. "I wouldn't care if you were famous or not, because that's not what makes who you are," she kissed his cheek. "It's what's inside that counts the most, your courage, your bravery and kindness, that's what made me fall in love with you."

"I don't deserve you," he said thickly, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.

"You do deserve me," she said simply and laced her arms around his neck, running her hands through his hair. "And let's face it, you're stuck with me." 

"I think I like that idea," his breath caught in his throat as she continued to stroke his hair. "Come on," he changed the subject before he lost his nerve. "Up you go," he lifted her off his lap and rose to his feet. "It's time I told you and Ron what really happened during the third task and why I tried to push you both away."

~*~

They both listened attentively as Harry brought up every painful memory of the Triwizard Tournament, Hermione paling and Ron flinching when he spoke of Voldemort's rebirth. When he was done with the events of their fourth year, he went on to tell them of his year as a Slytherin, including Malfoy's part in it. After he was finished, Ron's small bedroom was filled with silence.

"Harry," Ron shook his head. "I know I didn't say this exactly, but, I'm sorry I ever doubted you when you said you didn't put your name in the goblet."

"It's okay Ron," Harry shrugged and sent a smile towards Hermione. "It's in the past," he said slowly, trying to make himself believe his own words. "No use bringing it up anymore." She nodded in agreement.

"Now Malfoy on the other hand," Ron's eyes flashed in anger. "That slimy, sneaky git!" his hands curled into fists. "He better be glad he's not here, I'd do worse this time than petrify him," he thumped a balled hand on his knee.

"Ron," Hermione shot a warning look at him and scowled. "You know you could have gotten into so much trouble for doing that," she crossed her arms. "You were a prefect after all!"

"So?" he shrugged. "It was worth it really," he paused and met Hermione's scowl. "He's a damn git," he cursed. "And he deserves far worse than to be frozen to the floor for what he's done, prefect or no prefect."

At Ron's words, Hermione managed to stifle a yawn and glanced at the clock on Ron's bedside table. "Fine," she conceded to Ron's point of view. "It was nice to see him quiet for once. But as much as I'd like to sit here and mull over the various hexes we could put Malfoy through this year, I'm going to bed," she announced, sliding off the bed and giving Harry a quick kiss on the cheek as she went. "Good night."

Ron only rolled his eyes and grinned at Harry's blushing face. "Good night Hermione," he said amiably. "We'll see you in the morning."

"Night," Harry held onto her hand for a moment longer. "My Hermione," he mouthed to her as she paused in the doorway.

She smiled shyly and slipped out of the room.

Once the door closed Ron let out a hoot of laughter. "Harry old boy," he rubbed his face with his hands. "You've got it bad mate."

"Whatcha mean?" Harry whipped his head round to face him, his face taking on the beginning stages of a burning blush.

"You," Ron chuckled. "I never thought I'd see you get all sappy over a girl."

"Er – yeah, well," Harry mumbled, running a hand through his hair in mild embarrassment.

"It's not a bad thing," Ron was quick to reassure him. "I just, well," he shrugged his shoulders. "Really, I hope I can find what you have with Hermione some day. She's a great girl," he said a bit wistfully. "And I'm glad it's you with her and not someone else."

"She is great isn't she?" Harry sighed, staring down at his hands in his lap. "I – I just can't believe she wants to be with me."

"Well believe it mate," Ron yawned himself. "You were all she thought about last term," he snorted. "I've never seen anyone with more determination than her to get through to you."

"Yeah I know," he sighed heavily. "I wish I hadn't been such a prat really."

Ron shrugged once again. "Just as long as you don't do something like that again," he stared at him. "Then we'll be fine."

"I couldn't even if I'd wanted too," Harry shook his head a bit soberly. "I made a promise Ron," he looked at the red head with a steady gaze. "And I intend to keep it."

"That's good," Ron nodded in agreement. "I'd hate to have to beat you to a bloody pulp," he grinned.

Harry smiled and lay back on the bed, hands laced behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. On the other side of the room, Ron was shuffling through his dresser drawers, pulling out his night clothes to get ready for bed. "Hey Ron?" 

"Yeah?" he paused and turned to look at him.

"You'll find it."

Ron gave a slight smile. "Yeah, someday. Or maybe I've already have."  


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer**: _Nope, once again nothing belongs to me; all characters belong to JK Rowling. And, I've failed to say this before, but I highly doubt the plot is mine too, oh well. The quote at the beginning is from the book "Archangel" by Robert Harris, and is supposedly a quote from Josef Stalin, I don't know if it really is or not, but it fit well for this chapter._

**Author's Note**: _First off, I need to apologize for the long delay in getting this chapter posted. One of my friends came down from the States to visit me so I've been busy with other things for the last few weeks. Anyway, thank you, thank you, thank you for all your positive reviews; they are really heart-warming and inspiring. And I'm trying hard not to make any spelling errors, although I seem to have a problem with the words 'to' and 'too' and how to use them…pathetic isn't it? Ah well, perhaps one day soon I'll learn. Also, in regards to this chapter, I'm going to skip over Harry's birthday, besides; Hermione won't be giving him anything special…yet. Er – and there's plenty of mushy, cheesy romance dialog ahead, just a fair warning to all of you.  _

_Also, I can't remember if they were taught about Dementors in any of the books. I mean, I know Lupin taught Harry how to fend them off and all, but actually learning about them, that I have no idea. And as I don't have the books with me, I'll just pretend that they didn't. If I'm wrong, I apologize in advance. _

_Oh yes, one other thing. In a review from my first story, someone commented that I should try and pair D/G up if I write a sequel. And, as this is the sequel, I suppose it's something I could do…but, what do you guys think...I'll leave it up to you. Draco and Ginny? Or is that too farfetched? _

_Alright, now I'm about to do something that I haven't done before in any of my author's notes, and that is to shamelessly promote a couple stories that I've been reading on ff.net. The first is "Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within" by itmonster…absolutely fantastic and I recommend it to everyone. The second is Stoneheart's new fic (heck, any of his stories really) "No Greater Love". And third, both of akscully's works, "Harry Potter and the Pink Elephant" and "An Assault on the Senses". If you haven't read any of these yet, go…you won't be disappointed._

~*~

**_thefly_**_: Well Huw, I've made progress on your story (hopefully you're reading this), although I fear it's going to take a lot of revisions before I post it. I hope you think it's worth the wait. Until then, keep writing and updating both of your stories, they're brilliant._

**_Stoneheart_**_: I've come to the conclusion that we share a brain (not that I mind sharing it with someone who is so astute mind you), how else could you read so in depth with every updated chapter? Ah, if I could only share your insight, well, then again, I dunno what I'd do with it...perhaps its better left with you. Thanks for all your kind words, and you too, keep writing and updating…I look forward to reading more of your work. Even though my reviews are paltry in comparison to yours, I hope you know I think your work is fantastic._

**_Usha88_**_: It's good to hear from you again. Glad you like it so far, thanks for taking the time to read my pathetic excuse for a story, it's much appreciated._

**_Camillia_**_: Thank you…I'm glad you like it so far!_

~*~

***

**To choose one's victims, to prepare one's plans minutely, to slake an implacable vengeance, and then go to bed…there is nothing sweeter in the world.**

**_J.V. Stalin_**

***

It was dark, so dark that the blackness was smothering in its intensity, a heavy blanket of foul smells and depressing thoughts that could paralyze even the toughest man or creature. The soft flutter of wings stirred the putrid air, swirling it around and around like a grotesque blender. The lidless yellow eyes narrowed in a scowl and pierced through the gloom, searching, looking, seeking the place it had called 'home' for centuries. Finally, after a few moments of hovering, a deep growl emitted and the beating wings began their descent into the endless abyss. They carried him over the churning body of water that snaked and twisted its way through the rocky ground, weaving through the jagged stalactites that hung from the top of the cavern like jagged teeth, and into a gaping opening that looked more like a yawning mouth, rather than an entrance to another section of the cave.

A thin trickle of red smoke left the narrow nostrils, scarlet streaked against black, as Zabulus continued to soar through the air, his hands clenched into tight fists. After a few moments, the fluttering wings slowed, gently lowering him until his feet touched the hard ground below. With a snap of scaly fingers, the cavern roared to life with a hundred fires belching up their flames from pits dug deeply in the earth. But instead of the red-orange tones of a usual fire, the blaze was a mixture of green and black, twisting and meshing themselves into great beckoning hands, calling, urging, their skeletal fingers reaching out in a mesmerizing gesture. The inferno raged, sending the fire shooting upwards, scorching the roof of the cave and coating it with a light layer of black ash.

The eerie green glow illuminated jagged stone shelves that ran around the circular room, filled with dust covered glass orbs. A few lay broken into shards on the floor and Zabulus stepped over them with a scowl of disgust. Pausing once, he slowly bent his hulking frame and picked up a long sliver of glass, staring at the fragment refracting the twisted glow of the flames as he cradled it in his wide palm. He contemplated it for a moment, and then with a low growl, he closed his fist, crumbling it into dust as he rose to his feet. Clicking his teeth together in a display of annoyance at the broken spheres, he turned in a circle and surveyed his home. Spreading his arms and wings wide, he began to laugh, a low, insane cackle that echoed and reverberated off the walls, until the entire cave was filled with the eerie sound.

"Home," he growled, the sound of his laughter fading away. "I'm finally home."

~*~

King's Cross seemed unusually busy, Muggles dashing here and there, shouting instructions and directions as they jostled against each other in order to scramble inside the departing trains. If anyone had noticed the lone boy wheeling a huge trunk and a caged owl, no one said anything. Shaking his head slightly, he slowly pushed his trolley through the teaming crowd, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead of him. 

Platform 9 ¾ rose before him in a column of brick between platforms nine and ten, looking solid and impenetrable. The fluttery feeling of excitement of seeing the wizarding world once again rose in his stomach. He paused to look around to make sure no non-magical people were watching, and swiftly pushed his cart forward, disappearing behind the barrier without a trace. Suddenly, the bright scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express filled his vision, sending up great columns of white smoke high into the air. A grin split his face and he began to wheel his trolley towards the baggage compartment in order to store his trunk and his owl for the long train ride to another year at school. 

"Harry!" a call came. "Harry, over here!"

He turned his head slightly and glanced over his left shoulder. Behind the great plumes of grayish steam rising from the chugging engine, he caught a glimpse of the brown and red hair of his best friends. His smile growing wider, he deposited his trunk and Hedwig and began to weave his way through the throng of students in order to reach them. 

"Ron," he waved from behind a group of fifth years. "Hermione!"

His shout startled the little group in front of him and they turned around one by one to see what the commotion was about. As was the usual reaction to his presence, their mouths dropped open, their eyes widened, and all chatter stopped. Gulping and knowing he was the center of attention, he managed a small smile at the group of awe-struck girls and nervously bit his lip, his eyes darting about to try and find a way around them.

"Blimey, you're Harry Potter!" a small blonde girl with braids squeaked out with wide brown eyes.

"Erm," he shifted from side to side and ran a hand through his hair, embarrassment pumping through his veins. "Yeah, I am."

"Wow," another girl chimed in, stepping directly in front of him and staring at his scar. "I can't believe I'm talking to you. I mean, I knew you went to Hogwarts and all, I just never thought I'd ever talk to you," she continued to babble, unmindful that Harry was shifting from foot to foot nervously. "Is it true that you're really dating Hermione Granger?" she blurted out, asking the question that every single female ranging from third year on up was dying to know the answer to. It was probably more accurate to assume that most, if not all, the single witches within the wizarding world were wanting to know the answer to that particular question as well, thanks to the article in The Daily Prophet.

"Er - yeah," he could feel the heat rushing to his face. "I am," his eyes still darting from side to side, looking for an escape route. Thankfully at that moment, Hermione sailed over with a smirk on her face.

"There you are," she admonished him as if he were a small child that had gotten lost, splitting the gawking girls apart gracefully. "Come on," she grabbed his hand and tugged, ignoring Harry's fan club. "Ron wants to go find a compartment."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he sheepishly grinned and shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture at the fifth year students. "Sorry," he said apologetically. "I've got to go."

Chuckling silently to herself, Hermione steered him away with elegance and pride, leaving behind in her wake, sudden whispers and scathing looks. 

"Thanks," Harry muttered under his breath and gave her hand a squeeze as they approached Ron. "It's about time you helped me out."

"Please," she grinned. "You're a big boy, I'm sure you could've handled it all on your own, without my help."

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Ron was shaking his head, his eyes sparkling in laughter as they stepped closer. "We can't leave you alone for a moment without getting mobbed can we? Just don't get a swelled head alright?"

"Sod off," he grunted, his embarrassment still apparent in his voice. 

This only fueled Ron's laughter. 

"Okay," Hermione did her best to make him stop. "That's enough," but her cheeks were painted pink and a smile played about her lips. "Come on," she tugged at the both of them. "I'm sure Lavender is waiting."

At that comment, Ron's laughter stopped and Harry's began.

~*~

"So," Ron said, flopping down onto the cushioned seat, his legs sprawled in front of him. "Harry I've been thinking."

"That's a first," Hermione sniffed as she settled herself across from him, legs crossed and a book in her lap.

"As I was saying _Harry_," Ron huffed, sending Hermione a scowl. "I've been thinking. And really, this," he sucked in a deep breath. "This should be yours," he withdrew a parchment wrapped package from his coat pocket.

"What is it?" Harry asked hesitantly, not sure if he should accept it or not.

"Just take it," Ron urged, thrusting the package towards him.

Shrugging, Harry did as he was told, and removed the packet from Ron's outstretched hand. A glance at Hermione told him she didn't know what it was either as he unfolded the paper and opened the envelope. "Ron," he said thickly as he peered inside. "I – I can't take this," he shook his head.

"I only got it because you turned it down," Ron said, softly, staring down at his hands. "It, it really should be yours," he stuttered out once again.

Harry swung up his eyes to meet Ron's. "No," he began to re-wrap the prefect badge back up. "This," he held it up. "Is yours," he tossed it back in Ron's lap. "I won't take it."

"But," Ron sputtered.

"No buts," Harry smiled. "You deserve it Ron," he leaned back in his seat and found Hermione smiling at him. Grinning back he let his eyes sweep over them. "Prefects," he chuckled. "What am I going to do with my two best friends as prefects?" 

"Hopefully nothing that we'll have to deduct points for Mr. Potter," Hermione said primly. Her comment fell upon deaf ears.

"Are you sure Harry?" Ron questioned again, turning the badge over and over in his hands; giving him one last chance to accept it. 

"I'm sure," Harry assured him. "You keep it. Just don't report me if I sneak out late at night," he winked sagely as Ron grinned.

"Harry!" Hermione said, horrified.

"What?" he swung around to look at her innocently. "Did I say something wrong?" he teased.

She clucked her tongue and shook her head. "Enough of you, I'll just pretend that I didn't hear that," she reached into her pocket and pulled out her glasses. "I'm going to read," she slipped them on and opened her book to the marked page, blocking them out as she lost herself in its pages. 

Her glasses; Harry gulped. "Er," he continued to stare at her profile as she read, unaware of the flustered boy sitting next to her.

"Ugh," Ron snorted and threw up his hands in defeat. "That's it," he rose from his seat. "I am _not_ riding all the way to school with _you_," he looked pointedly at Harry. "Making googly eyes at _her," he jutted his chin out, motioning to Hermione, and then stalked over to the door. "I'm off to find Lavender."_

"What?" Hermione finally snapped out of her reading in time to see Ron's lanky figure exiting the compartment. "What was all that about?" she turned to look at Harry and found him quite red in the face.

"He, he went to find Lavender," Harry stuttered and desperately tried to tear his eyes away from her, suddenly feeling foolish that the sight of Hermione in her glasses turned him into a bumbling fool.

"Oh," her mouth dropped into an 'O' shape. "I see," she shrugged and picked up in the place she left off in her book. "Harry?" she didn't move her eyes from the page but a smile was spreading across her face.

"Wh – what?" he swallowed hard and raked a hand through his hair.

"You're staring," she blushed and nibbled her lip, she felt like giggling, or singing at his undivided attention. Something, she thought rather smugly, she liked having.

He drew in a deep breath and finally succeeded in dropping his gaze to his lap after several attempts. "Sorry," he muttered. "I – I couldn't help it," he admitted, nervously twisting his hands.

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips together, more or less to keep her smile from growing wider and giving her away.

"It's just, well, I mean," he fumbled over his words. "You're, you're um," his face was dangerously warm.

"Just what?" she egged him on, not stopping in her reading. In truth, she'd been staring at the same word since she'd caught him out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh hell," he groaned and rubbed his eyes. "You're wearing your glasses," he finally admitted and stared at the floor in awkwardness.

"Is that all?" she lifted her eyes from the page and gave him a heart-melting smile, her eyes shinning in laughter and causing the air to catch in his lungs. 

"Yeah," he turned his head away and scratched the back of his neck. "I know, I know, it was a stupid thing to say," his voice dropped lower.

"Oh Harry," she shut her book gently and placed it on the seat beside her. "It wasn't stupid at all," she slid her arm through his and gave it a squeeze. "In fact, I thought it was sweet," she chuckled a bit. "I don't mind if you want to stare at me," she sighed and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Really?" Harry sighed in relief, running a hand through his hair again and leaned over to rest his head on top of hers.

"Really," she nodded. "But," she went on. "We might have a problem if you can't form a complete sentence every time you see me in my glasses," she grinned. "I don't think that would go over well in class, especially Potions," shivering lightly at the thought of Snape's scowling face.

"Right," he murmured, shifting slightly so he could bury his nose into her hair. "You're always right," he said absently, losing himself in her scent and presence; the faint sound of the train whistle blowing marked their departure for another year at school. 

"Not always," she whispered and let herself relax against him as the train lurched forward. "Just most of the time."

"Nope," he disagreed with her, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger and planting a kiss on her forehead. "Always," he whispered in her ear as his eyes slipped closed.

~*~ 

"Aww, aren't they cute?" Lavender sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes as she and Ron stood in the doorway of the compartment, taking in the sight of Hermione resting her head on Harry's shoulder and his arm wrapped around her waist. Both were sleeping soundly.

"Yeah," Ron crossed his arms and snorted. "Cute."

Lavender flashed him a disapproving look. "What?" she narrowed her eyes and mimicked his stance. 

"What do you mean what?" Ron shuffled slightly and avoided her look.

She shook her head, a bitter smile on her face. "Jealousy doesn't suit you Ron," Lavender regarded him with a harsh look. "Not at all."

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry," he dropped his head down and looked at the floor, intently staring at the worn and faded pattern on the carpet. "I – I guess," he stopped and nervously wiped his hands on his trouser legs. "I'm not jealous," he said softly. "I'm not," he finally looked at her. "It's just, what, what if they don't have time…"

"Time for you?" Lavender finished, a soft look in her eyes.

"Yeah," he spared Harry and Hermione's sleeping forms another look and then hung his head, scuffing his shoe on the floor.

"That won't happen," she reached out and laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Listen to me," she ducked her head to meet his eyes. "They're still your best friends Ron," she inched closer. "Even if they are together. They're finally happy, and I know, I know they'd want you to be happy for them as well. And even after everything that happened last term, they would never intentionally hurt you, ever. Just be happy for them Ron."

He gave a grunt as she held his gaze and shook his head ruefully, looping an arm around her shoulders. "You're right, and I am happy for them, I just needed to be reminded of that. Thanks Lav."

She snuggled closer to him, lacing her own arm around his waist and resting her head against his chest as they swayed slightly from the movement of the train. "You're welcome, besides," she looked up at him with a smile on her face. "You still have me," she hooked a hand behind his neck and pulled his head down to give him a kiss on the cheek. His ears were bright pink when she pulled away and a blush was creeping up his neck. "Come on," she interlaced their fingers together and stepped back into the hall. "Let's leave them alone."

~*~ 

Green eyes cracked open, squinting slightly at the light that was still seeping through the open window. Shifting in his seat, he twisted his neck to work out the kinks and attempted to stretch his shoulders, only to find that he couldn't move his right side. Slowly turning his head, he grinned as he recognized the head of brown hair resting against him. His smile growing wider, he reached across his chest in order to run his hand through her hair, letting each strand slip through his fingers like water as he gazed tenderly at the girl beside him. She turned in her sleep at his gentle touch but didn't fully wake, the rocking motion of the train lulling her back into her dreams.

Taking the opportunity to observe her as she slept, Harry let his eyes roam freely over her, taking in every detail. The way her eyelashes showed up inky black against her pale cheeks, her perfect, in his opinion, nose, and then down to her full lips which were parted slightly as she let out her peaceful and even breaths. It wasn't often that he got the chance to study her in sleep, and he rather liked it. Her glasses were folded and held in one hand that lay resting on her lap, and her book had somehow ended up on the floor during the course of their nap, the cover open and the pages bent.

Leaning over slightly, Harry pressed a feather-light kiss to the top of her head and settled back into his seat more comfortably as he held her closer. He sighed softly, coming to terms with the fact that he'd probably never get enough of being with her and not minding the idea one bit. Enjoying the sounds of the muffled chatter and laughter coming from nearby compartments and from students wandering up and down the aisle, he let his gaze slip over to the window and watched as the landscape went speeding by, a blur of green and brown. The sun had begun to set; painting the sky a brilliant orange and making the shadows lengthen and darken as the sun slipped beyond the horizon. Next to him, Hermione let out a sigh and stirred.

"Hey," she whispered sleepily as she rubbed at her eyes.

"Hey," he smiled. "I didn't wake you did I?"

"No, you didn't," she adjusted herself into a less neck-breaking position. "I've been awake for awhile now," she told him.

"You were?"

She nodded and slid a hand up his chest to rest on his shoulder. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"I don't know," she shrugged one shoulder. "I just wanted to listen to your heart beating," she said bashfully.

"Oh," he chuckled lightly, resting his hand in the curve of her waist. "Did it stop?" he joked. "Or make weird noises?"

"No," she arched her neck to look up at him and her hand came up to curl around his neck. "It sounded perfect," she looked at him with half-lidded eyes, those dark pools of brown and gold that made him lose all conscious thought. The fading light outside didn't help his current situation as he fought to remain in control of his emotions. Streams of orange light danced across Hermione's hair, turning it into burnished copper that shimmered and cascaded over her shoulders like liquid metal. 

Her eyes drew him in with an invisible force, until his forehead was resting lightly against hers, and he lost himself within their depths, almost as if he were sinking into a chocolate sea. Her breath was warm and sweet against his lips and her hand was combing through his hair as his own hand came up to caress her cheek; her skin felt like silk against his calloused thumb. "H – Hermione," he whispered thickly, his heart beating loudly in his ears.

"Harry," she whispered back, their lips mere centimeters from touching.

"Oy!" the sound of an amused voice tore through their moment, making them spring apart in surprise. "What are you two doing?"

Shaking his head ruefully, Harry swung round to face the door. "Ron," he greeted the grinning figure before him, now dressed in his school robes, slightly glaring from behind his glasses.

"Finally you two are awake," Ron snorted, ignoring Harry's glare, and stalked over to his vacated seat and flopped down. "Sorry," he looked at Harry and Hermione in turn. "Did I interrupt something?" he asked, blinking innocently although too innocently to be sincere in his questioning.

Hermione refused to look at him and instead made a production of retrieving her forgotten book. She scowled at the bent pages, her fingers smoothing out the wrinkles as best as she could, and then wiped off its cover with her sleeve before placing it carefully next to her. Harry just managed a guilty smile and twisted the hem of his shirt nervously between his fingers.

"Anyway," Ron went on, grinning widely at their lack of response to his question, a sly look in his blue eyes. "We're almost there," he informed them with an air of authority. "I saved you both a chocolate frog since you've slept right through when the cart came," he tossed them each a gold and blue cardboard wrapped package.

"Thanks," Harry felt the faint hunger pangs in his stomach. "Hermione," he nudged her in the side lightly, noting that she had yet to acknowledge the treat, or Ron. "Aren't you hungry?"

She finally spoke. "A bit," she smiled and then looked at Ron. "Thank you Ron," she unwrapped hers and took a delicate bite.

"Sure," he leaned back and laced his hand behind his head, crossing his legs at the ankle. "So, any ideas as to who our new Defense teacher is?" he asked them both.

Harry shrugged and continued eating, tearing the head off the wiggling frog. "I dunno," he swallowed. "At least we're having one this term."

"True," Ron agreed. "Let's just hope it won't be Snape," he joked. "I'm sure his idea of a good Defense class would be to hex us all and see what we look like afterwards, with the exception of the Slytherins that is."

"Er - yeah," Harry fiddled with the empty chocolate frog box. "He's, he's not all that bad you know," he said softly, remembering.

"I know, I know," Ron sighed. "But, somehow I don't think his momentary lapse will make him any nicer to us this year."

"You never know Ron," Hermione chimed in, the voice of reason, the voice of compassion. "You never know."

They were soon joined by Lavender and Ginny, who'd been off gossiping with Parvati Patil and her twin sister, Padma, and spent the rest of the trip happily chatting about what each of them did during their summer holiday. They were quite a sight to those passing by; Hermione curled up beside Harry, Lavender seated next to Ron, and then Ginny, sitting next to them, but apart at the same time.

"You know something," Ron said thoughtfully, tapping a finger on his chin. "I haven't seen Malfoy's ugly mug so far," he mused.

"I know," Lavender joined in. "Usually he's been to every compartment by now, spreading his lies and bullying others," she scowled at the thought. "Stupid git," she huffed.

"Well, well, well," an all too familiar voice drawled from the door. "If it isn't Potty, Brown, the two Weasels, and the mud…"

"Christ," Ron rolled his eyes and cut Malfoy off before he could finish his insults. "Speak of the devil," he shared an irritated look with Harry whose face had gone pale at Malfoy's unfinished insult of Hermione. It didn't take a genius to know what he was going to call her. "We were wondering what rock you'd hidden yourself under Malfoy," he spat out; his eyes narrowing as he carefully watched the blonde, who surprisingly wasn't followed by his two goons.

"Nice comeback Weasley," Malfoy sneered, leaning against the doorframe and giving him a cool look. "Did it take you all summer to think that one up?" he sounded bored and gave them all a look of distain.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, annoyed, meeting Draco's steely gaze with his own.

Malfoy chuckled and shook his head before his face fell back into his trademark sneer. "How disgusting is this?" he motioned towards Harry and Hermione's linked hands and ignoring Harry's question. "You're actually dating that? I should have guessed it," he arched an eyebrow. "First she dates the Weasel and now you? She's nothing more than a…" he was cut off.

"That's it," Harry's temper shot up and he rose to his feet, his face paler and his eyes glittering dangerously as he stepped towards the smirking Slytherin. "I can let it slide when you insult me, but," he clenched his jaw. "Not Hermione."

"Oh, I'm scared Potter," Malfoy hissed, matching Harry's hard look. "Really scared," he snickered, and with a swish of his robes, he swooped out of their compartment.

"That was weird," Ron commented, discreetly sliding his wand back into his pocket. "Usually he's got more insults to throw around than that," he shared a confused look with Lavender and Ginny just stared out the window.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, not quite sure of what to make of Malfoy's abrupt exit. "Hermione? Are you alright?" he sat back down next to her.

Her face was a bit whiter and her eyes were swimming in hurt. At his question, she managed a wobbly smile and a nod.

"Don't pay any attention to him Hermione," Lavender said soothingly, reaching out and giving the other girl a comforting pat on the hand. "He's nothing but a spoiled brat who'll say anything to make himself feel better."

"I know," she mumbled, swiping a chunk of hair behind her ear. "It still doesn't make it hurt any less," she sighed deeply. "Well," she changed the subject. "I suppose we should go change," she looked at Harry and reached for their robes that were tied in a bundle. "Like Ron said, we should be there soon."

~*~

"'Ello 'Arry," Hagrid's huge figure loomed over them as the students came exiting off the train, one large hand grasping the handle of a lighted lantern.

"Hey Hagrid," he returned the greeting, nearly getting knocked over as the giant swatted him on his shoulder, thankfully Hermione and Ron had both grabbed onto him at just the right moment.

"Hagrid," Hermione's face lit up in a smile as she unwound her hand from the fabric of Harry's robe. 

"'Ermione," a smile widened behind his bushy beard. "And Ron," he nodded in the red heads direction. "'Ow was yer summer?" he asked while keeping an eye out for the lost look signifying the first years. 

"Good," Hermione responded. Ron just nodded. "How about yours?"

"Eh, well I got some new animals while yeh were gone on yer holiday, I'll tell yeh all 'bout 'em later," he sounded pleased, and then suddenly lifted his hand into the air. "First years, this way!" There was a collective sigh of relief as the new students grouped together around him. "Alright yeh three," he looked back down at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Yeh come fer tea sometime soon and yeh can tell me all 'bout yer summer. I've gotta job ta do," he winked and ushered the first years towards the boats like a shepard with his sheep.

"It's good to be back, isn't it Harry?" Ron chuckled and slung an arm round Harry's shoulders.

"Yeah," he nodded and glanced at Hermione. "Well," he sighed. "We should go find Lavender and Ginny and get a carriage." 

"Right," Ron straightened. "I'll go get them, won't be a minute."

~*~

The Great Hall looked as it always did, dozens upon dozens of candles floating gently throughout the hall, casting their soft glow on the four rows of wooden tables, each laden down with golden plates and goblets. The hum of talking students filled the room as each one made their way to their respective house tables and took their usual places, awaiting the arrival of the first years that needed to be sorted.

They finally arrived, still grouped together in their tight bunch, as they looked around the room with awe and a hint of fear in their eyes. Leading the procession was Professor McGonagall; the list of their names rolled up and held tightly in one hand, as she swept up the aisle, her typical stern look gracing her face. All talk stopped as they approached the front of the room and then came to a stop before the teacher's table, the sorting hat sitting on its usual perch of a wooden stool waiting to be placed on their heads.

"Ugh," Ron groaned and rubbed his growling stomach, tearing his gaze away from the sorting. "I wish they'd hurry up," he stared mournfully at his empty plate. "I'm starving."

"After all the candy you consumed on the train," Lavender said from beside him. "I'm surprised you're hungry at all. You practically bought half the cart," she grinned

The tips of his ears began to burn at her words. "Er – yeah," he shifted in his seat.

"Shh," Hermione raised a finger to her lips to silence them as Professor Dumbledore rose from his chair to give the opening speech. "They're starting."

Ron rolled his eyes and caught Harry's gaze and sent him a wink. "Look what you've gotten yourself into," he mouthed.

Harry only grinned and shrugged, then directed his attention to the front of the room. He knew just as well as Ron did, there was no arguing with Hermione.

~*~

"I see you're getting the hang of this," Harry smirked as he settled comfortably on the crimson couch in the common room. "Whoever would have thought that Ron Weasley would make a good prefect?" he cocked his head and stared at the flash of gold on Ron's chest. He'd been waiting downstairs as Ron and Hermione went through familiarizing the new first year Gryffindor's of their new surroundings.

Ron only grinned as he ambled his way over, puffing out his chest slightly at Harry's comment.

"Actually," Hermione's voice floated down from the direction of the girl's dormitories. "He did a wonderful job last year," she reached the landing and began to head in their direction. 

His smirk faded into a wistful smile. "So I've heard," he sighed and slung an arm round Hermione's shoulders once she'd seated herself next to him. "Sorry I missed it," he looked back in Ron's direction.

"S'okay," Ron mumbled, his face slowly turning pink.

"Harry," Hermione looked pointedly at him. 

"Yeah I know, no more living in the past," he paused and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Right," she covered a yawn with her hand. "Well I'm beat," she announced and slid off the couch. "I'll see you two in the morning."

"Alright," Harry nodded and gave her a wink. "Good night Hermione."

"Night," and she swept up the staircase and into her room, turning to shut the door behind her gently.

"What?" Ron began his teasing anew. "No good night kiss?" he smirked.

Harry flushed. "Er – not tonight," he scratched his head and avoided Ron's look.

"I heard that Ron Weasley!" Hermione's voice called out just as the door was closing.

"Blimey, can't even whisper without that girl hearing everything," Ron sighed and shook his head. "It's not right I tell you, not right at all. What if we wanted to talk about guy stuff?"

Harry stifled a grunt and waited until the door was firmly latched behind her, not wanting to take any chances. "Hey Ron?" he half-whispered to the red-head.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me if this is a stupid idea will you?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"What?" Ron sauntered over to a chair facing him and sat down, an expectant look on his face.

"Er – well, Hermione's birthday is coming up," he began, clasping his hands together in front of him. 

"Yeah, so?" Ron frowned.

"Well, I – I wanted to do something special for her," Harry flushed slightly.

"How special are you talking?" Ron's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he took in Harry's blushing face.

His face turned a deeper shade of red. "No, no, not that kind of special," he ducked his head as he caught onto Ron's implied meaning. "Er – not that I wouldn't want too, but I don't think we're ready for that just yet."

"Humph," Ron leaned back in his chair and crossed his long arms, slightly relieved. It was one thing to know that they were dating, but an entirely different situation to know that they were taking the next step. "Well," he paused. "What are you thinking of then?"

"Can you make sure no one's in the common room that night?"

He shrugged. "Sure, I suppose I could my powers as a prefect to clear the room," he smirked. "So, what are you gonna do?"

"Look," Harry rose to a standing position and began to pace back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back. "I know you're both wanting to get over the past," he sent a casual look towards the reposed figure of his best friend and saw him nod. "And I agree with you, although it's a bit harder for me to let go of than it is for you. After all, I was the one that did it," he sighed. "There's just one more thing I need to do for her and then hopefully I can let the past rest."

"Which is?" Ron arched an eyebrow.

Harry smiled. "You'll see," he came to a stop in front of the fireplace, letting his eyes travel over the dancing flames. "When's the first trip to Hogsmead?" 

"Next weekend."

"Good," he turned to look at him. "Can you keep Hermione busy for awhile while we're there?"

~*~

"Here are your schedules," Professor McGonagall swept up and down the length of the Gryffindor table during breakfast, a pile of crisp, white parchment in her hands. "Please note, you will be having a Defense class this term." Faint cheers met her announcement.

"Excuse me Professor," Hermione piped in as McGonagall handed her the schedule.

"Yes Miss Granger?" she stopped.

"Um, we were wondering," she glanced briefly at Harry and Ron who were both leaning forward in anticipation of her question and McGonagall's answer. "Who is the Defense teacher this year? Professor Dumbledore didn't make any announcements last night during the feast. And there was an empty spot at the table."

A slight smile creased the elderly woman's face as her eyes swept over the now silent Gryffindor's. "Your new Defense teacher wasn't able to make it last night for the Welcoming Feast," she informed them. "He ran into some unexpected troubles on the way here."

"Oh," Hermione glanced down at her paper, her eyes scanning over the contents to see if it listed the unknown Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher. 

"But, rest assured," McGonagall went on, clasping her hands tightly in front of her. "Professor Lupin will be here for today's lesson."

"Professor Lupin?" Harry asked, excitedly.

"Yes Mr. Potter," she nodded and adjusted her glasses on her nose. "Professor Lupin will be teaching your Defense class this term." 

All up and down the Gryffindor table, wide smiles and happy whispers broke out as McGonagall finished handing out the schedules and then left to go sit at the head table next to Dumbledore.

"Bloody hell!" Ron slapped his hand on the table and sent the salt shaker rattling, his blue eyes dancing and a huge grin on his face. "Professor Lupin's back!"

~*~

They were the first to arrive in the Defense classroom, anticipation bubbling through their veins. "Professor Lupin!" they cried, spying their favorite teacher sitting at his desk, his battered briefcase at his feet.

He looked relatively the same, although the hair was a bit grayer around his ears and the lines around his eyes seemed a bit deeper. "Hello you three," he rose with a smile, his eyes twinkling in delight. "It's wonderful to see you all again."

"You too Professor Lupin," Hermione broke in, matching Lupin's grin with her own.

"And what's this?" he raised his eyebrows at the sight of Harry and Hermione's joined hands. "A new development I see," he chuckled. "And I thought Sirius was pulling my leg."

In front of him, Ron sniggered while Harry and Hermione flushed.

"So," Harry began, trying to change the subject. "How've you been Professor?"

"Good," Lupin stepped down from behind his desk and came to stand in front of them. "Although sometimes I'll admit, I've been better."

"You weren't at the Welcoming Feast last night," Ron interjected.

"Ah yes," he rocked on his toes. "Well, I had a bit of a spell," he scratched his ear. "It seems as though I've run out of Professor Snape's Wolfsbane potion," he shrugged. "I was trying to get here before that happened, but unfortunately I couldn't. But not to worry, he's brewing me up a new batch as we speak."

Just then, the rest of the students came flooding in, cutting their conversation short.

"Alright you three," he glanced down at them. "We'll talk more later," he winked and stepped back behind his desk. "Welcome to Defense Against The Dark Arts," he began. "As most of you recall, I'm Professor Lupin," heads bobbed and wide smiles broke out. "Now," he began to pace in front of the room. "I've heard that you didn't have a Defense class last term," more nods. "Well then, we have a lot of catching up to do, so we best get started. Please turn to page ten in your textbooks; today we're going to begin with Dementors," he looked directly at Harry. "Not necessarily just how to defend yourself against them, but the study of their origin. The more you know, the safer you'll be in the long run."

~*~  

"Ugh," Ron took a break from shoveling mashed potatoes in his mouth in order to whine. "Homework on the first day," he groaned. "Why is it that all teachers think we should dive headfirst into our school work again?" he slumped in his chair. "Including Professor Lupin," he continued to grouse. "Imagine, a two foot essay on the history of the Black Forest Trolls," he paused and then sighed. "Ugh, why?"

"I dunno," Hermione looked at him over the rim of her glasses. "Maybe because it _is _school? We're supposed to learn?" she rolled her eyes. "Honestly Ron, how did you ever pass your O.W.L.'s? Mr. I-passed-with-just-enough-so-my-mum-didn't-hex-me."

He grunted. "By sheer luck I think," he sighed again and then picked up his fork once more. "And I don't want to hear anything more from you, Miss I-got-the-highest-score-out-of-our-year," he speared a piece of ham from the platter in the center of the table rather violently.

She flushed and Harry just smiled at their banter. 

"Hey," Lavender thankfully interrupted them, rushing over after finishing her daily gossip session with Parvati.

"Hey," Ron returned around a mouthful of ham. "What's got you so chipper?" he eyed her carefully, steeling himself for a barrage of meaningless gossip.

"Nothing," she practically sang out as she loaded her plate with food. "Er – well at least nothing you'd want to know," she gave Hermione a discreet wink. "Just girl stuff is all."

"Bleech," Ron wrinkled his nose. "You're right, I don't want to know."

Across from him, Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "Aww, what's the matter Ron?" she joined in. "Don't you want to know what we girls talk about late at night? Who's got a crush on who and who we'd like to snog?"

"What?" Harry looked at her with wide eyes, breaking into their conversation. "Did I just hear you say you talk about who you'd like to snog?"

"Er – I was only joking," she said sheepishly, dropping her eyes in embarrassment. "I've never participated in such things, I've just listened."

"Right," his eyes narrowed but his mouth twitched as he fought back a smile. "So, out with it Miss Granger," he crossed his arms and shared an amused look with Ron. "Who do you want to snog?"

Her face was burning with heat as three sets of eyes waited for her answer. "Ugh," she tossed her hands up in the air. "If you must know," she said smugly. "I've already snogged him," she smiled devilishly, picking up her fork and causally lifting another bite to her mouth.

"Er…" Harry stuttered as he watched the fork disappear between her lips while Ron and Lavender began chuckling. "Oh," he said lamely, his pulse skyrocketing at the sight and sending his blood rushing loudly through his ears. His eyes glazed over and his jaw sagged slightly as he continued to gape at her.

"Stop it," Ron hooted in laughter at Harry's dazed look, clutching onto Lavender's slim shoulders to keep himself from falling over onto the floor. "The both of you." Lavender wasn't fairing any better, having seen the dazed look on Harry's face, giving him the appearance that he'd lost his mind completely.

It was partly true, that he'd lost his mind; hence the reason he seemed to be so dumbstruck whenever he was in Hermione's presence. And he couldn't stop his mind from going blank, or the world from fading away when he saw her any more than he could ask himself to stop breathing. She was his world, his lifeline when things got too crazy around him, his heart. It was a natural reaction to go into a mind-meltdown he supposed; one that he was sure didn't influence only him. 

Being of the male gender himself, he could personally attest to the looks and slight murmurs of appreciation of the other boys, usually regardless of which house they were in, with exception of Slytherin, whenever Hermione walked through the halls or even entered a room. They watched with keen eyes the way her hips swayed under the confines of her school robes, or the way her eyes would light up whenever a teacher asked a question and she knew the answer, or the way she smiled, that heart-warming, knee-weakening, lung-constricting smile that thankfully she reserved for only him. A natural reaction, he tried to remind himself as he fought to keep his breathing even and his face from burning, although this time it left him open to the teasing of his other best friend. And said best friend was going to do just that...but later.

"What?" Hermione had finished chewing and shot a look at her two chuckling friends, a slight frown on her face.

"N – nothing," Ron stuttered, desperately trying to control himself.

"Boys," she muttered, setting her fork on the table and wiping her lips with her napkin. "Anyway," she took a final sip of her pumpkin juice. "I'm off to the library," she announced.

"Typical Hermione response," Ron muttered out of the side of his mouth. 

"Ron," she rose from her seat and propped her hands on her hips. "As you said before, all of our teachers have given us homework…"

"But Hermione," Ron whined. "Our homework isn't due until next week!" he slouched in his seat and crossed arms.

"Really Ron," she huffed and rolled her eyes. "That isn't the _only_ reason I want to go to the library," she raised an eyebrow in a silent hint. 

Realization finally dawned on him, as well as Harry and Lavender. "Oh, right," he shared a look with Harry who'd let out a sigh.

He'd successfully forgotten all about their trip into Knockturn Alley and their little visit with Madam Lissette. The good news of Professor Lupin's return and excitement of being back at school and starting Quidditch soon had shoved all the worries far into the back of his mind. Suddenly somber and no longer hungry, he too pushed back from the table.

"Do you need a hand?" he asked Hermione softly.

"Only if you're willing to lend one," she eyed him carefully. "I know how much you detest the library, especially when you don't have to go there."

He smiled weakly and shrugged. "Well, I don't really have anything else to do at the moment. Besides, two heads are better than one."

"Three," Ron cut in. "Oww," he grunted suddenly.

"Four," Lavender smiled sweetly as she retracted her elbow from Ron's side.

Hermione grinned. "Wonderful. Tell you what," she spoke to Lavender. "Harry and I will meet you there."

"Alright," Ron wheezed, rubbing his stinging side and glowered at the girl next to him.

Smiling and shaking her head, Hermione and Harry headed for the doors, on their way to the library. The last words they heard from Ron before they were out of range were, "Whatcha do that for?"

~*~ 

"Did you find anything yet?" Harry asked wearily, slipping off his glasses and rubbing his eyes as he took a break from the fifth book that he'd thumbed through. His shoulders ached from being hunched over the pages and pages of information and his eyes felt scratchy and his vision blurry from staring at dozens of moving pictures and endless small script.

Across from him, Hermione sighed and shook her head in a silent 'no'. Propping her elbows on the smooth, wooden surface of the table, she dropped her chin into her upturned hand. "Not a thing," she finally spoke, softly as to not attract any unwanted attention from the stern librarian. "Nothing even mentioning the words anima caterra," her shoulders were beginning to slump in the early stages of a defeated attitude.

"Hey," he whispered, reaching across to take her hand. "We'll find something," he encouraged her. "You know this library forwards and backwards," he winked. "And, like you've said before, Hogwarts has one of the largest and extensive libraries in the wizarding world. If there's something here, we'll find it. Besides, Ron and Lavender may have had better luck than us."

Hermione snorted and sent him a knowing look.

"Okay, okay," he held up his hands in defense. "Maybe not."

She leveled her stare. "Harry," she began and leaned forward slightly. "Ron has been paying more attention to Lavender than to which book he's been 'reading' the last half hour," she finished with a smirk.

Arching an eyebrow, he twisted in his chair and craned his neck around to glance over towards the table that Ron and Lavender were occupying. He and Hermione watching in silent amusement as they witnessed Ron trying to inconspicuously stare at Lavender over the edge of his book; the title of said book which read, "Hairstyles For The Fashionable Witch". Upon seeing which tome supposedly had Ron's undivided attention, Harry choked back his sudden desire to howl in laughter. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and swung back around in his seat, meeting Hermione's laughing brown eyes with his own.

"Remind me later," he fought to keep his laughter in check. "To make fun of Ron."

She laughed softly in response before dropping her eyes back down to the open, forgotten book before her and absently turned a few more pages. "Seeing as we haven't had any luck finding anything about anima caterra, we might as well see what other information we can find for our essay for Defense," she sighed. "At least we got Dementors as a topic," her eyes swept over the page. "They shouldn't be too hard to find information on."

"Yeah," Harry nodded, rubbing at a sore spot on the back of his neck. "That's true," he took a deep breath before leaning back down to stare at his open book. 

"This is odd," Hermione finally spoke up after a brief moment of silence.

"What is?" Harry asked absently, turning the page.

"There's a page missing," she frowned.

"Huh?" he glanced at the page numbers as Hermione slid the book over towards him. It was true, the volume she was leafing through jumped from page 409 to 412. Further evidence of the vandalism was the jagged edge near the binding of the book, all that was left of pages 410-411. "That is odd," he agreed with her, unsure of why anyone would want to rip out a page of a boring library book. "What do you think it was about? Think it was anything important?"

"I dunno," she shrugged her shoulders. "Well, the pages before and after were about Dementors," she could only scowl at the ruined book. "So, I'm assuming that this page had to do with their history."

"Hmm," Harry had already forgotten about the torn page and had his head buried deeply in the crook of his arm that was resting on the table. "Hermione?" he spoke to the table.

"What?"

"There are tons of other books that will have information on Dementors," he reminded her. "And like Ron said, our essays aren't due until next week."

"And?" she favored him with a knowing look, already guessing at what he was going to say next. "What is your point?"

"My point is," he looked up at her with pleading eyes. "We have time to do our research later, on both subjects," he grinned. "Can't we go do something fun now?"

At his beseeching look, Hermione sighed and slowly shut the book and tapped one finger on the glossy cover. "It depends," she began, a gleam in her eyes and a sly smile spreading across her face. "What do you consider fun?" 

~*~

The fog had rolled in across Hogwarts in the form of thin, gray mist that clung heavily to the dips and hollows along the grounds, and skimmed lightly over the expanse of the lake, blending with the gray water until it was hard to determine where one ended and the other began. It clung to the leaves, making them droop with the added weight, it soaked into the bark of the surrounding trees, turning their trunks black and water logged. Each remaining blade of grass that still poked through the dying earth was covered with tiny droplets of moisture; small, translucent beads that shone like diamonds along the ground. The overlay of clouds above looked pregnant with rain, threatening to burst at any moment.

There was also the smell, the scent of soon changing weather. Changing from the cool, earthy scent of fall, to that of the brisk, crisp smell of the oncoming winter. But as the weather had yet too actually change, the outdoors was still a place to roam when one was sick of being cooped up indoors, or in this case, the library. And it was within this setting, with the leaves falling in all their colorful glory, that two figures were taking a walk around the lake.

"This is nice," Hermione sighed, hitching her cloak round her shoulders more securely to keep out the damp air that threatened to seep into her bones.

"Hmm," Harry agreed absently, his eyes fixated on her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes rather than paying attention to her words.

"It reminds me of fourth year," she went on, not noticing his silence. "When you and I would take our walks after the whole goblet incident." 

He shook his head to clear out his thoughts, allowing her words to sink in. "Yeah," he let his mind wander back through time. "Did I ever tell you how much those walks meant to me?" he asked, taking his hand out of his pocket to reach for hers.

"No," she shook her head, suddenly feeling a bit shy.

"Ah, well," he took her hand in his, running his thumb over the back of her hand before raising it to his lips. "They meant a lot," he pressed a kiss to her fingers. "After Ron was convinced I'd lied to him about putting my name in, and everyone else giving me the cold shoulder because of Cedric," he said haltingly. "It was nice to know that someone still believed me, still wanted to be my friend and didn't mind being seen with me," he tugged her closer.

She went willingly. "Harry?" she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. "When did you realize you liked me more than a friend?" she asked softly, snuggling closer to the warmth his body offered.

"Er – well," he began, reaching up to stroke her hair. "I suppose it began in third year."

"Third year?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "When you and I were rescuing Buckbeak and Sirius," he grinned at the memory of how tightly she'd held onto him while they were flying on the newly freed hippogriff. "And then it just grew during our fourth year. You were always there for me, no matter what anyone else thought."

"So then," she lifted her head to look him in the eye. "Why is it that you didn't react the way Ron did after the Yule Ball? You know, during the whole Krum thing?"

"Because," he reached out and ran a hand down the side of her face. "Who am I to tell you who you can and can't go with? He did ask you first after all," he shrugged. "And, I didn't want to make a fool of myself in case you'd never like me as anything more than a friend."

"I think I've always loved you," she said suddenly, burying her face in his chest once more. "I mean, sure it started out as an infatuation of course, since I'd read about you only in books," she paused. "But then when I met you on the train, I dunno," she sighed. "I guess I expected you to be completely different. And then I had to go spouting off about reading all about you," she flushed, thankful he couldn't see her face. "After I'd left your compartment, I wanted to slap myself for being such a fool."

"Really?" he asked in surprise. "Actually, I wasn't quite sure of what to make of you then," he sighed. "Mostly I was shocked that you'd pointed your wand right in my face, I wasn't sure what you were about to do with it. It was a good thing you only wanted to fix my glasses," he paused and settled her more comfortably in his arms. "So, you thought I'd be different how?"

"Arrogant, superficial, kind of like Malfoy," she heard him chuckle at her words. "You defeated _him _after all. But you're not," she pulled back once more. "You're considerate and selfless, you're, you're my everything," the smile she gave him was a bit unsteady.

"Hermione," he choked out, his heart constricting tightly in his chest. "God, how'd I ever get so lucky to win you?" he placed a hand on either side of her face.

She gave him a wide grin. "Don't you know?" she arched an eyebrow and brought her hands up to encircle his wrists. "You saved me from that troll in first year. After that, I didn't have a choice."

"Ron helped too you know," he smirked.

"Yeah, but Ron was also the reason I'd locked myself up in the bathroom that night," she reminded him. "If he hadn't made his comments after Charms, who knows what might have happened then."

"Oh, right," he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. "Silly prat that he is, although, dare I say, it did work out for the best, for all of us."

"That it did," she agreed. 

"Can I ask you something?" he said softly.

"Of course, anything."

"Why didn't you and Ron, well, you know," he half-shrugged. "Try and work out your relationship. I mean, it wasn't as if I was in your good graces at the time."

Hermione thought for a moment before answering. "Ron and I," she began, trying to choose her words carefully. "Well, we're more different than we are compatible with each other. Everyone thought that since we fought so much, deep down inside we were harboring some steamy romantic notions about the other when really all it was about was that we had a complete personality clash," she paused. "He's a wonderful friend and I do love him, but it's more like the love you'd have for a brother. And, Ron knew that I was never in love with him, just as he's not in love with me."

"Oh, I see. So," he began slowly. "For never having a girlfriend before, and having the romantic sense of a moron, how am I doing?" his voice dropped lower at his question.

"Perfect," she breathed out, punctuating her heartfelt words by staring directly in his endless green eyes and sliding her grip from his wrists to rest on the backs of his hands. "You're doing absolutely perfect."

"I am?" he asked in wonderment, losing himself to her touch.

"Uh-huh," she nodded. "Harry…" she was cut off by a drop of rain falling on her cheek.

He chased it away with his thumb and then glanced upwards as more fat drops began to fall. "Er – I," he glanced around quickly, debating on whether or not to head back inside, or find some sort of shelter from the oncoming rain. He spied a tall oak tree, its branches spread wide, offering an umbrella of sorts. "Come on," he tugged at her arm.

The falling drizzle started slowly enough, a light pattering here and there, collecting into small pools and rivulets on the ground. By the time they were halfway to the tree, the sky had opened and the rain began to fall harder, collecting in their hair, their clothes, and streaking their faces with its wetness.

"Harry!" Hermione was in between wanting to laugh and squeal at the same time.

"Run faster!" he was laughing himself, still keeping his tight hold on her hand, their robes fluttering behind them and their shoes squelching in the muddy ground as they ran. They finally reached the trees protection, both of them still laughing as they huddled together under the dense branches, watching the rain fall around them, veiling them from the outside world.

Fighting to catch her breath after their short sprint, Hermione leaned back against the tree trunk and swiped her damp hair away from her face, tucking as much of it as she could behind her ears. In front of her, Harry rubbed as much rain out of his hair that he could, and then slipped his glasses off and blindly searched for a dry patch on his robe so he could clean them.

"Your birthday is coming up," he said suddenly, still searching his robe. "Is there anything you'd like to do?" he squinted at her.

"No, not really," she crossed her arms and smiled back at him. "In fact, I wouldn't have to do anything as long as you're there."

"Ah well," he'd finally cleaned his glasses and slid them back on. "You'll never have to worry about me leaving you," he winked and edged closer to her. "But, I may have a surprise for you."

"A surprise huh?" she raised an eyebrow. "What kind of surprise?"

"Now, now," he wagged a finger in her face. "You know I can't tell you that, otherwise it won't be a surprise."

"But," she pulled a fake pout, her lower lip jutting out slightly.

"And that won't work either," he chuckled and leaned forward, resting both his hands on the tree trunk on either side of her. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Whatever it is," she locked eyes with him. "I'm sure I'll love it," heat was spreading throughout her, starting in her stomach and then steadily seeping to her limbs at his intense gazing. Matching his look with her own, she unconsciously licked her lips in anticipation of the kiss she knew was coming. He didn't disappoint her and dipped his head to meet her lips with his own, starting softly at first and then increasing the pressure as the seconds went by. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to her. She was beginning to feel delightfully warm and basked in the enchanting sound of the falling rain mixed with his heady scent of wind and sun that always hovered around him.  

They were so engrossed in each other, that they didn't notice the slight figure watching them from a window overlooking the courtyard, seeing their private moment with narrowed eyes.

"Enjoy it while you can," the figure mused silently, a crooked leer twisting their features. "Because it won't last for long," a hand reached up to curl around the necklace, gripping it tightly. "The plans have been made and the time is near. Tonight, I can rest knowing that your life is about to become your worst nightmare and your cries of helplessness will be music to my ears," a low chuckle sounded, ringing dully through the empty corridor. "You won't know the time or the day I'll strike, rather you'll walk in fear and confusion until I take what you love most…her." 


	5. Chapter Five

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Disclaimer: _You all know the drill, nothing belongs to me. All characters and setting belong to JK Rowling._

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Author's Note: _Have you all forgotten about this story? If I were you, I would have. Shame on me for making you wait so darn long. First off, there's an apology to be made. I am so sorry that it's taken me so long to get this chapter written and posted. I'd like to make excuses, but really there are none…or at least there aren't any good ones. I had wanted to get this written before OoTP comes out, but obviously, I am going to miss the deadline severely. But, I will try and start posting more frequently, just so you guys don't have to go through waiting for weeks until I get my lazy self in gear. _

For any of you that may know about Duppies, I apologize if I haven't the faintest idea as to what they're really about. I heard about them when I was in Jamaica, but never dug deeper into what they were other than they were ghosts of some sort. Also, the quote that you'll stumble across towards the end of the chapter is from the Bible, Hebrews to be exact…so I don't own that either. ;) So, here's chapter 5 just in time for Harry Potter 5 to come out on Sat. Although I have a feeling that after I read OoTP, JK will put this story to shame. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy reading, I did my best although I don't think I wrote this as well as I could have. Oh well…onto chapter 5!

~*~

Fae Princess – As always, it's wonderful to see you again. Thanks for all your kind reviews and I'm glad that you like the story so far.

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Stoneheart – I know I can always count on you to leave such in depth reviews. In fact, they're so in depth that I think you know more about my story than I do. ;) Like I said before, you may be right and you may be wrong. As you're convinced that the 'Master' is female…think carefully. Then again, even if you do guess correctly, I may still shock you in the end. Or should I say, I'll try to shock you in the end. 

**_oneiros lykos_****_ – _**Yeah I know, Harry is somewhat mushy in this story…another reason I usually don't writing fluffy stories. Most of what I write is rather sappy and gushy. But oh well. And for your other comment, yes Ron will have a larger portion in the story; we just haven't gotten that far yet. But, in the meantime…if you want a good story with loads of Ron in it, check out Stoneheart's finished works, "Signs" and "Second Best", he ships H/Hr just so you know. I can't even begin to put into words what kind of writer he is other than I think he's brilliant.

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Jandl – Thanks for the complement! I actually live in the States, the Midwest to be precise, but was in Jamaica for the last three months. That's where I was when my friend came down to visit.

**__**

BabyJ5 – Sorry the first chapter turned you off from reading. Let me know if you need any clarification on the rest of it…that is, if you continue reading.

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Galtxtr – Thanks, glad you're enjoying the story so far. I'm still debating as far as portkey.org is concerned…we'll see. And fictionalley.org? To be honest, that never even crossed my mind. The stories that are posted there seem to be of a higher quality than mine. But thank you for the complement though! I will give it some thought.

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Leah – Thank you for the review. As far as the spelling goes, I think I rely too much on my spell check, it misses stuff sometimes and I certainly don't catch it then. Anyway, who gave Harry the bruised toes?

~*~

"Hey," Ron slid into a chair next to Harry, who was currently sitting by himself at the table in the common room. Prior to his entrance, Harry had been vainly trying to keep himself focused on the task at hand. Which was rather difficult as it was too quiet in the empty room, and the sound of the crackling fire was lulling him to sleep.

"Hey yourself," he looked up with blurry eyes from his Potions essay and regarded his red-headed friend. "What's wrong with you?" 

Ron covered a yawn. "Nothing, just tired I suppose," he shrugged and rubbed at his eyes, which currently had rather large circles under them, with the back of his hand.

A grin spread across Harry's face. "Aw," he smirked. "Too many late nights with Ms. Brown in the Astronomy Tower?" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

Ron choked, then sputtered as his face began glowing red. "Er – I, I have no idea what you're talking about," he denied, his ears burning.

"Right, that's why you needed to borrow my dad's cloak for the last three nights in a row," he shook his head before squinting at his paper once more. "Anyway, as much as I'd love to chat right now, I still need eight more inches on my essay," he sighed and picked up his quill once more.

"Potions?" Ron inquired, leaning forward slightly.

"Yeah. Have you finished yours?" he shot him a quick glance before scribbling messily on his parchment.

Ron looked guiltily at the table, tracing over a deep groove with his finger. "You sound like your girlfriend. Is she rubbing off on you?" he sniggered.

"I do _not_ sound like Hermione," Harry scowled, then paused as Ron continued to smirk at him. "Okay, maybe I did," he smiled sheepishly. "But I had a motive behind my asking. I only wanted to know so I could copy yours."

"And I was going to ask if I could copy yours," Ron grinned back as he laced his hands together behind his head. "I suppose there's no point in asking is there?"

"You can as long as you don't want good marks, and don't, I repeat, don't let Hermione know," Harry jabbed his quill through the air towards Ron's chest.

"Please," Ron rolled his eyes. "Why does everyone think I'll go spouting off to everyone else? It's amazing that everyone thinks I'm such a bloody fool," he sighed up at the ceiling. "Ugh, I'd be in just as much trouble with her as you would."

Harry had the grace enough to blush. "Sorry," he muttered, feeling rather foolish that he'd even thought Ron would do such a thing.

"S'okay," there was a brief moment of silence. "So, how's the research coming along?"

"Research?" Harry frowned. "What research?"

"You know, the research."

Then it clicked. "Oh, that research," he rubbed his neck. "Still nothing," he shrugged. "Hermione's been in the library every day so far and even she can't find a thing on any animus caterra."

"Hmm," Ron bit back another yawn. "Well, I'm sure we'll find something," he stretched in the chair. "But, onto a lighter subject, ready for Hogsmead this weekend?" he grinned.

Harry just smiled. "Just keep her busy for an hour Ron," he twirled his quill between his fingers. 

Ron nodded. "So, you gonna tell me what it is that you're doing?"

"Nope, not yet."

"Fine then," he pretended to be hurt and failed miserably. "You keep your secrets, I'm going to bed."

"Good night Ron," Harry watched as he made his way to the staircase. "I'll give you my essay in the morning."

"Thanks. Night Harry."

***

"Yeah, that one," Harry nodded in appreciation as he leaned over the glass counter and tapped the clear surface with one finger.

"This one?" the shopkeeper pointed, arching one eyebrow and looking over the rim of his glasses, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah," he assured him before reaching into his robe pocket and fishing around for a scrap of parchment. "And," he went on, his fingers finally locating the desired object and pulling it out. "Can you have this engraved on it?" he slid the folded paper across the smooth glass.

The shopkeeper chuckled and reached down to pick it up. "Of course Mr. Potter," he nodded as he unfolded it. "It's not a problem," he quickly scanned over the few lines. 

"Great," Harry sighed and reached down for his money pouch. "When can you have it ready by?"

After a quick glance at the clock hanging behind him, the shopkeeper tilted his head. "Can you come back in an hour?" he asked.

"Sure, how much do I owe you?"

"We'll discuss the price when you return," the man smiled. "She must be a special girl," he winked in a fatherly manner.

"Yeah," Harry blushed slightly and ducked his head. "She is."

***

"Here you are," Ron set a mug down in front of Hermione with a solid _thunk_. "One butterbeer for you," he slid into a seat across from her, another mug in hand and bumped into Lavender with a mischievous grin on his face. "And another for you," he placed it in front of her. She giggled lightly in response to his sliding and gave him a gentle shove back.

"Thank you Ron," Hermione suppressed the urge to grin widely at their play, pulled her glass closer to her and trailed a slim finger around the rim, removing the thin layer of foam that had slopped over the edge before it had a chance to run down the side and pool on the table below. "So, where'd Harry run off to?" she asked as innocently as possible, keeping her eyes trained downwards.

With a roll of his blue eyes Ron shook his head and shifted his attention from Lavender to his best friend. "Hermione," he let out a low sigh. "That is the fifth time you've asked me since we sat down two minutes ago," he tapped a finger on the table. "Not to mention the fact that you've been pestering me ever since he left," a pause. "And every time I give you the same answer…I'm not telling you," he grinned and sent a wink in Lavender's direction.

"I have not," she said, indignantly. "Fine," Hermione huffed when she caught sight of Ron's amused look and Lavender's arched eyebrow and sat back with crossed arms. "So I _may_ have asked five times," she swiped a chunk of hair away from her eyes. "But he's been gone for an hour, if not more. You could at least point me in the right direction and I'll 'accidentally' bump into him," she wheedled.

"Nope," Ron grunted, taking a pull off his own butterbeer. "Nothing working Hermione," he slung an arm round Lavender's shoulders.

"Fine," her eyes narrowed and her lower lip jutted out ever so slightly. "Some best friend you are," she muttered under her breath.

He caught sight of her pout and steeled his will against hers. "And that," he pointed a finger at her. "Won't work either," he said smugly.

She huffed again and sniffed, pretending to be hurt, when the bell above the door to the Three Broomsticks clanged merrily. 

"There you are," Hermioneslid over to give Harry some room to sit next to her. "It's about time you showed up," she gave a mock scowl. "Ron's been teasing me again," she said in her best "damsel in distress voice".

Harry chuckled as Ron sputtered incoherently across from him. "Somehow," he shook his head and nudged her lightly on the arm with his elbow. "I think you'll be alright," he smiled at her before rubbing the rain out of his hair and removing his glasses to wipe the water spots off.

"Gee, thank you my knight in shinning armor," she grunted before smiling at him to let him know she was only joking. "I see it's begun raining again," she sighed and tilted her head to look out the window at the gray sky.

"Yep," Harry slid his glasses back in place. "It's not too bad yet," he passed another hand through his hair, causing it to stick up more so than usual. 

"Here," Hermione offered, reaching over to try and pat his hair down to a somewhat respectable level. It refused to budge, lying down flat once her hand passed over and then springing back up the minute it was free. "Oh sod it," she huffed and let her hand drop away. "I don't know why I even try, it never listens."

He grinned back in response before giving an imperceptible nod to Ron and Lavender while Hermione had her head bent over her butterbeer. _Thank you_, he mouthed quickly to which Ron only grunted and Lavender stifled her urge to giggle at their shared secret.

"Want some?" Hermione finally lifted her head and looked directly at him, sliding her drink over.

"Sure," Harry flashed another smile before lifting the drink to his lips and taking a sip. It slid smoothly down his throat and sent spider webs of warmth throughout his body. "Hmm," he licked foam from his upper lip and handed Hermione the cup once again. "Thank you."

She nodded slightly before taking a swallow of the golden liquid herself. 

"So," Harry leaned back, settling himself more comfortably in the wooden booth. "Did you guys buy anything exciting?"

"No," Ron shook his head and tapped his fingers on the back of the wooden booth. "Lavender and Hermione managed to drag me to Gladrags," he rolled his eyes as Lavender narrowed her own at his comment. "Never," he looked levelly at Harry. "Never leave me alone with two girls again," he practically begged. "Especially in a clothing store…oy!"

Harry managed a snort when Hermione and Lavender both scowled. If looks could kill, Ron would have definitely been six feet under. "Sorry about that," he stifled a chuckle, hoping he concealed it well enough that Hermione wouldn't swing her icy glare his way. "But it couldn't have been that terrible."

"Yeah well," Ron toyed with the handle of his mug. "I will admit," he avoided Lavender's look. "It wasn't all bad I suppose," he smirked. "Watching two girls parade around showing off new robes and all. It was like having my own private…"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence Ronald Weasley," Lavender growled, tapping her fingernails on the tabletop. "Not if you know what's good for you." Hermione nodded in agreement, her brown eyes glittering brightly.

He flushed and ducked his head slightly. "Er – right then," he cleared his throat. "And erm – Harry," he desperately tried to change the subject. "How about those Cannons?" his eyes practically begging Harry to help him.

"Open mouth, insert foot Ron," Harry grinned wolfishly at him as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Anyway," he took pity on his best friend. "Are you guys ready to go back? Or do you still have some shopping to do?"

"I'm done," Hermione announced, taking a final sip of her butterbeer. "Lavender?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm finished too," she jabbed Ron in the side. "Come on prat," she practically shoved him off the bench, snagging her purchases as she went. Once standing, she practically threw them at Ron, who thankfully caught them before they crashed to the floor. "You can carry those," and with a toss of her hair, she swept towards the door, Ron trailing behind her with a pensive look on his face.

"Honestly Lav," both Harry and Hermione heard him mumble. "I didn't mean it _that_ way." She ignored him, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead. "I didn't," a sigh. "Really, what I _meant_ was that I was lucky enough to have two of the prettiest girls around me for a good portion of the day."

The rest of their conversation was cut off by the closing of the door. "Reckon she'll hex him before the day is through?" Harry tilted his head and grinned at Hermione.

"Honestly," she shook her head. "That boy needs to start thinking before speaking."

"Yeah," he scratched his cheek. "Well, are you ready to go?"

She nodded and he slid off the bench to allow her to stand up. Bending down, he snagged her shopping bags, intending on carrying them to the carriages so she wouldn't have to.

"Thank you," she smiled at him as she shrugged on her cloak, tying it neatly round her neck.

"Sure," he grinned back and reached out to grasp her hand with his free one.

Once outside, both squinted slightly after being in a dimly lit room for the last hour. Thankfully it had stopped raining and they began picking their way through the muddy street. "Er – Hermione?" Harry stopped, remembering he still had something left to do. "I, um, I forgot something," he pulled his hand away from hers.

"Oh?" her forehead wrinkled in concern. "What did you forget? We'll go back and get it," she started to turn around before he stopped her with a hand on her arm. "What?" she questioned him.

"You don't have to come with," he tried to dissuade her.

"Nonsense," she sent him a suspicious look. "We'll just pop back over to whatever place you need to go, grab whatever it is that you've forgotten, and then hop a carriage back to the castle."

__

Damn, what to do now? "Well, I, er, I mean," he stuttered, unable to think of a lie quick enough to tell her, or appease her for that matter.

"You what?" her hands went to her hips as she awaited his answer.

"Never mind," he sighed. "Just wait right here, I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Harry…" but he had his back to her and was busy weaving his way back through the crowd.

***

"Watch where you're going, scarhead," Malfoy's sneering voice cut through him like a knife.

Gritting his teeth and rolling his eyes, he turned to face the pale blonde that he'd nearly run over in his haste. "Malfoy," he spat back, distain flooding out of his eyes. 

"Tsk, tsk," Draco shook his head, his sneer remaining firmly attached to his lips. "Aren't you going to apologize for nearly running me over?" gray eyes glittered and he lifted a pale hand to smooth back his hair. 

"_You _were the one blocking the doorway," Harry snipped back. "I hardly see why it's my responsibility to apologize to you."

Malfoy's scowl deepened. "Our house elves have better manners than you Potter," he hissed. "But then again, you've never had anyone to teach you have you?" he arched an eyebrow. "Silly me, I forgot, your parents are dead," he growled. 

"Malfoy," he grit his teeth, the muscles along his jaw standing out sharply as he fought to control his temper. "Get. Out. Of. The. Way." Green and gray had an unblinking battle of wills.

Draco snorted, slightly disappointed that he hadn't managed to get a better reaction out of him. "And what are you doing here Potter?" he asked, ignoring Harry's command. "Surely you didn't buy something for the…"

"Don't," he curled his hand into a fist, ready to pounce if need be.

"And speaking of that thing," he leered. "Where is it?"

"I could ask the same of you," Harry returned just as coldly. "Where are Dumb and Dumber? I haven't seen them since term started."

Malfoy's eyes sparked with an unrecognizable gleam. 

"Oy!" another voice came shooting through their confrontation before Harry could say or do anything more. "What are you two doing? I don't want any trouble here! Go on!" the shopkeeper poked his head out the door. "Oh, Mr. Potter," his tone softened then. "I've been expecting you," he waved him inside. "But you," his eyes narrowed on Malfoy's unmoving figure. "Unless you're here to buy something, clear off."

Draco's usually pale face turned a light shade of pink. "Do you have any idea who my father is?" he asked icily, hoping to scare the owner into submission.

"Boy, I don't give two Knuts who your father is," arms were crossed. "So, as I said before, unless you're here to buy, stop harassing my patrons."

Gray eyes narrowed in spite and annoyance at his sudden dismissal. "See you at school, Potter," he hissed one last time and flounced away.

"Great Merlin's ghost," the shopkeeper sighed after Draco had left. "Cheeky one isn't he? Thought you two were going to go at it for a moment," he winked at Harry. "Not that it would have been a problem for you, would it now?"

Harry, still seething inside, only managed a half smile. "Right, er – how much do I owe you?"

***

"Finally," Hermione huffed as Harry approached her. She'd gotten tired of waiting in the middle of the street, and had sat down on a beach just outside The Three Broomsticks, her bags at her feet.

"Sorry," he breathed out, hand unconsciously clutching the small box hidden in his robe pocket. "It took longer than I thought. I ran into Malfoy," he grabbed her bags. "Quite literally."

"Oh," her expression melted into one of concern. "Are you alright?" her brown eyes darted across his face, searching for any signs of a physical confrontation.

"I'm fine," he assured her with a quick smile. "Really," he tacked on when he saw her somewhat disbelieving look. "All we did was exchange a few words," he shrugged. "No big deal."

"Well, we'd better hurry," she informed him. "The last carriages are leaving soon."

"Alright," he nodded and fell into step beside her. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Are you, um, mad at me?" he asked, tentatively.

"Mad?" she glanced over at him. "Why would I be mad at you Harry Potter?" her eyebrows went up to her hairline.

"Er – because I erm – didn't let you go with me?" he said in a small voice.

She rolled her eyes. "I'll admit, I was slightly peeved when you dashed off like that," she shrugged one slender shoulder. "But I've had awhile to cool down."

"Oh," he bit his lip. "I'm sorry," he repeated again.

"It's alright," she clambered into an empty carriage. She waited until he was seated next to her before going on. "Are you going to tell me what you forgot?"

"Um, no," he shook his head, praying that his answer wouldn't vex her too much.

"Alright then," she sighed and turned her attention away from him, choosing instead to stare at the passing landscape.

"Hermione," he finally spoke after the silence became too much for him. "Look, I'm sorry I can't tell you," he reached for her hand, noting the stiffness that shot through her as he did.

"Don't you trust me Harry?" she whispered, finally looking at him.

"Of course I trust you, I trust you with my life," he met her look. 

"Then why are you keeping this a secret?"

He sighed. "Because it's a surprise."

"A surprise?" again the eyebrows went up. "For whom Harry Potter?"

He silently groaned; sometimes his girlfriend was too inquisitive for her own good. "You'll see," he patted her hand. "I promise."

***

"It's about time you two showed up," Ron crowed from his spot by the fire. "Harry, wanna play some chess?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure," he shrugged off his cloak and slung it over the back of a chair. "Hermione?" he looked at her.

"No, go ahead," she headed for the stairs. "I've got to go to the library anyway," she gave him a smile.

"Alright," he sat at the table and watched at Ron set up the game.

"That girl is going to drive herself nutters," Ron stated as he handed Harry the black pieces. "Imagine, cooping yourself up in the library whenever you have a spare minute," he shook his head. "Ugh, the smell alone would get to me. Did you ever notice it smells like moth balls in there?" he sat down opposite Harry. 

He chuckled as Ron wrinkled his nose in memory of the thought. "Don't let Hermione catch you saying that," he chided. "She'd hex you to hell and back."

"Isn't that the truth," he studied the board for a moment, looking for the perfect move.

"Speaking of hexing," Harry watched as a white pawn slid smoothly across the board. "How'd you make up with Lavender? Or did she hex you?" he smirked.

Ron flushed again. "She um, well I won't be speaking before thinking when I'm around her."

He arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Why is that Ron?"

"Er – never mind," he ducked his head. "We'll just say, she could probably give Hermione a run for her money in the hexing department," he gave a wobbly smile. 

Harry snorted. "Sorry," he quickly apologized when Ron's head shot up. "So I see you've met your match in Ms. Brown eh?"

"Guess so," he shrugged. "Who ever would have thought that beneath all that makeup, incessant gossip, nervous giggling, and love of Divination…" he trailed off, knowing Harry would get what he was trying to say without actually saying it.

"Glad to hear that Ron," Harry watched dismally as Ron's knight smashed his rook, sending the black shards flying off the board. "Ugh, I don't know why I even play this game with you," he grumped.

"Because," a grin split Ron's freckled face. "You have to be terrible at something," he leaned back in his chair. "It's a law, no one is perfect…not even Harry Potter," he chuckled.

"Stuff it," he did his best to scowl. "One of these days Weasley, I'll beat you at chess."

"Keep dreaming Potter," Ron shook his head. "So, did you get it?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, his eyes never leaving the checkered board. "Did you want to see it?"

"Sure, I guess," Ron shrugged. "After all, I suppose it should meet my approval as you are giving it to my best friend."

"Whatever," he dug in his pocket and withdrew the box. "Here," he slid it across the table. "Go on," he urged when Ron looked at it skeptically. "Have a look."

Reaching out a hand, he picked it up and opened it slowly. "Whoa," he breathed, his eye widening slightly. "Blimey Harry, its brilliant."

He smiled in pride. "Thanks," he heaved a sigh of relief. "I had a devil of a time picking it out. Do you think she'll like it?" he asked anxiously.

"Like it?" Ron gave him an incredulous look as he shut the velvet box and handed it back to Harry. "She'll bloody love it."

***

"Hey," Hermione thumped a rather thick tome on the table, sending silverware rattling and pumpkin juice to slosh over the edge of goblets.

"Hermione," Ron eyed the book carefully. "What is that for?" he arched an eyebrow.

"This," she said primly as she took her seat next to Harry, who was also looking at the leather bound text with a dubious expression on his face. "Is what is going to make certain that our paper," she motioned towards Harry. "Will get full marks," and with that being said, she quickly flipped to her marked page.

"Ugh," Ron grunted, turning his attention to his breakfast once again. "I forgot about that."

"Ron Weasley," Hermione's head shot up and she looked at him with wide eyes. "Do you mean to tell me that you haven't even _started _your essay?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat while Harry snickered softly. "Er – no, that's not what I'm saying," he scratched his neck and looked every where but at Hermione. "We, we've started," he grumbled, poking his eggs with his fork. "Just haven't started writing it is all," he muttered.

"But, but its due in three days!" 

"I _know_ when its due Hermione," Ron huffed, sending her a scowl. "Like I said, we've started our research; we just have to write it all down."

"Ooh," she narrowed her eyes. "You best not be asking me for any help with it either Ron," she warned him.

"Er – I won't," he flushed. "Lavender and I have it covered, it's no big deal really," he shrugged it off.

"What have you been doing? We got this assignment a week and a half ago?" she continued to pester him while Harry grinned like mad at his plate.

"Er - we, we were ah, well you know," Ron stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck.   
  
"What?" she narrowed her eyes on him, unable to believe that with the due date of their respective papers drawing ever closer, Ron and Lavender hadn't made any real headway on it.   
  
"It's just that, we were erm - doing, doing stuff," he finally spit out; his face a wonderful shade of magenta, a color Harry suspected wasn't exactly healthy. "Yeah, stuff," he chuckled nervously, hoping that she'd drop the subject.   
  
Unfortunately, Harry had chosen to take a swig of his pumpkin juice at the exact moment Ron spoke and snorted a good portion up his nose, while sending the remainder in his mouth, back into his goblet.   
  
"Harry!" Hermione whipped her head round to look at him, her eyes wide as she caught sight of him choking. "What on earth is wrong with you?"   
  
"Nothing," he wheezed out and made a grab for his napkin to wipe the dribbles of juice off his face and wipe his watering eyes, and, to hide his widening smirk. "Nothing at all, it just went down the wrong pipe," he made a final swipe at his face and cleared his throat. "So, what interesting facts about Dementors did you find in there?" he asked, changing the subject of Ron and his unfinished Dark Arts essay before his face burst into a geyser of flame.   
  
"Oh," her attention quickly shifted from embarrassing Ron any further, much to his relief, to the library book that lay open before her. "Practically the same information that we found before," she tapped a page with her finger. "When they were first discovered and all. I'm actually cross-referencing from our other sources, just to make sure they match and we're not over-looking anything important," she paused and sent him a knowing look. "And, during our free period today, you and I are going to be working in the library, so don't run off."   
  
Harry suppressed a groan while Ron chuckled smugly across the table from him. "Sounds like fun," he did his best to be enthusiastic, knowing how important good marks were to her and shot Ron an irritated look.   
  
"And I don't see why you're laughing Ron," Hermione glared at him. "From the way it sounds, you and Lavender still have loads to do."   
  
He stopped mid-chuckle, not wanting to have another interrogation session with Hermione about the 'stuff' he'd been doing. "Er - yeah."   
  
"Right then," she snagged a sausage and glanced at the time. "Come on you two, we'd better head to class," she informed them, closing the book and tucking it underneath her arm as she rose from the Gryffindor table.   
  
Taking that as their cue to leave, Harry wiped his face one final time and Ron stuffed in another bite of egg before gulping down the rest of his juice and followed Hermione out of the Great Hall.   
  
***   
  
"Potter!" Snape barked, making Harry jump. "I believe I said your potion should be clear, not gray," he narrowed his eyes. The Slytherin side of the dungeon burst out into chuckles. "Perhaps you should stop your daydreaming," he hissed, his black eyes darting towards Hermione's flushed face. "And pay attention in class."   
  
"Yes Professor," he mumbled, embarrassed to have been caught staring at Hermione rather than concentrating on his potion. "I will."   
  
"See that you do," and Snape stalked away, his robe fluttering behind him as he went on to torture Neville.   
  
"So much for him being nice this year," Ron said out of the side of his mouth, quietly as to not attract attention to himself.   
  
Harry grunted. "He is being nicer," he commented, racking his brain on how he was going to correct his murky potion. "He didn't deduct any points."   
  
***   
  
"Good afternoon class," Professor Lupin smiled at the roomful of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Defense Against the Dark Arts was one of the few classes they had, without the Slytherins.   
  
A muted chorus of 'good afternoon Professor' was given in response.   
  
"I trust you all had a good weekend?" he smiled and clasped his hands behind his back. His question was met with wide smiles and fervent nodding. "Wonderful," he rocked on his toes and then began to pace the length of the room. "Last week we touched base on Dementors, vampires, and red duffs," he paused. "Today we'll talk about Duppies. Can anyone tell me what Duppies are?"   
  
Hermione's hand shot up in the air.   
  
Lupin smiled. "Ah yes, Ms. Granger," he nodded for her to continue.   
  
"Duppies were first heard of in the Caribbean," she began, folding her hands primly in front of her. "Even though they are rarely seen, Muggle folklore is littered with encounters of these spirits, or ghosts, although they aren't dangerous," she drew in a breath. "It is said that Duppies usually take the form of a howling dog at night."   
  
"Very good Ms. Granger," Lupin smiled and made his way back to the front of the classroom. "Five points for Gryffindor. Ms. Granger is correct," Lupin went on. "While Duppies are not usually dangerous, they are very clever creatures. Turn to page 100 in your texts."   
  
***   
  
"Come on Hermione," Harry nudged her in the side with his elbow once class was finished for the day. "Let's go."   
  
"In a minute," she finished stuffing her books and parchment into her bag. "I want to ask Professor Lupin a question."   
  
"Professor?" she queried as she approached his desk.   
  
"Hermione," he looked up from writing. "How can I help you?"   
  
"I was wonder, for the essay you've given us," she began. "We've found loads of information already, but, I was wondering if we might find some more in the Restricted Section," she looked hopeful. "Which of course, we need your permission for."   
  
Lupin smiled and reached for a blank piece of parchment. "Of course Hermione," he scribbled a quick note for the strict librarian. "There you are," he handed it to her. "I look forward to reading your finished assignment."   
  
"Thank you Professor," Hermione flashed him a quick smile and headed back towards Harry.   
  
"Whatcha do that for?" Harry questioned her when they finally made their way out of the classroom. "We already have enough information as it is."   
  
She rolled her eyes. "Harry," she shook her head. "I know that...but we still have other research to do," she waited for him to catch on. "And since I couldn't find anything in the non-restricted section, I thought maybe we'd find something in the restricted section," she replied smugly.   
  
"Oh, right," he hitched his bag higher up on his shoulder. "I guess it slipped my mind."   
  
"That's why you have me," she said sweetly, hooking an arm through his.   
  
"It's a good thing too," he smiled down at her. "I dunno what I'd do without you."   
  
She blushed slightly. "Alright, come on," she tugged at his arm. "Let's go to the library."   
  
***   
  
Upon entering, Hermione went directly to Madam Pince, handing her their note from Lupin to access the forbidden section. Madam Pince eyed the parchment carefully with her sharp eyes, searching for a counterfeit note. After a few moments, she gave a terse nod.   
  
"Very well," she glanced at the two of them. "Mind what you touch though," she warned and then swept ahead of them to unlock the door.   
  
"Thank you Madam Pince," Hermione flashed her a smile and then gave a wide grin to Harry after she'd disappeared. "Come on, let's get started."   
  
It seemed to Harry that hours had passed by since they'd set foot in the library, although in truth, they'd been there for only forty minutes. Most of that time was spent searching the endless shelves of books, and now they made their way back to their table, arms laden down, and Harry's neck aching. Setting them down with a thump, Hermione grabbed the first one and began leafing through it. Harry, following suit, grabbed the closest one to him and cracked it open.   
  
***   
  
"Harry, stop fidgeting."   
  
"I'm not fidgeting," he retorted, tossing his quill down on the table and crossing his arms while slouching slightly in his chair.   
  
Hermione's eyes never left the page when she answered. "You were," she insisted and dipped her quill in the inkpot. "I can see you out of the corner of my eye you know."   
  
He sighed and rubbed his temples. He couldn't stand to look at another book, at least not until after a small break. He felt as though he was going cross-eyed, the words were blurring together and he was becoming quite annoyed with the moving pictures. "But Hermione," he groaned and rubbed his eyes. "We've been in here for ages," he exaggerated. "I need a break," he pouted.   
  
She flipped a page and smirked. "A break?" she arched an eyebrow and ran a finger down a column of text.   
  
"Yes Hermione, a break," he crossed his arms on the table and buried his head between them.   
  
"Alright," came her soft reply, which sent Harry's head shooting up.   
  
"What, no argument?" he asked in mild shock.   
  
"Well no, as long as it's a very brief break," she favored him with a look that left no room for argument.   
  
"Alright," he didn't try and convince her otherwise, knowing it would be useless. "A brief break," he removed his glasses and tossed them on the table, rubbed his eyes once more and then moved on to his neck.   
  
"Here, let me," she offered and pushed back her chair.   
  
"Huh?" he squinted at her.   
  
She didn't answer, but moved to stand behind him and gently brushed his hand away. "Now, just hold still," she instructed as she placed her soft hands on the back of his neck and began to knead the sore muscles.   
  
"Hmm," his eyes slipped closed and his head sagged forward slightly. "That feels wonderful Hermione," he breathed out, not wanting to think how wonderful it would be for her hands to be other places on his body.   
  
"Glad you think so," and although he couldn't see her, he knew she was smiling.   
  
"Has anyone ever told you that you have magical hands?"   
  
"Well, I am a witch," she chuckled lightly. "Magical hands come with the occupation."   
  
"I suppose," he suddenly straightened, grabbed her hand, much to her surprise, and tugged her to his lap.   
  
"Harry!" she squealed when she was plopped in his lap.   
  
"What?" he asked innocently as he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled his face against her neck.   
  
She relaxed in his embrace and leaned her head on his shoulder, her hands coming up to rest lightly on his arm.   
  
"I just figured," he went on, his breath tickling her ear and neck, making her shiver. "Since we are taking a break and all, that we should make the most of it," he smiled against her skin.   
  
Again she shivered, a wry smile crossing her lips. "The most of it wouldn't be a snogging session in the Restricted Section would it?"   
  
"What a novel idea Ms. Granger," he pressed a light kiss to her earlobe before she had a chance to protest.   
  
Her eyes slipped closed and her breath hitched in her lungs as he began to trail kisses across any exposed flesh he could find. "Harry," she finally roused herself. "We can't do this in here," she whispered, wanting to stop and not wanting to all at the same time. "We might get caught."   
  
"So?" he kissed her again. "There's no one back here but us Hermione," he pointed out.   
  
"I know," she pulled away from him slightly and tilted her head to face him. "But I don't fancy the idea of getting caught snogging in the library," she smiled. "And we still have more work to do."   
  
He groaned and rested his forehead on her shoulder. "You just had to mention work again didn't you?"   
  
"Well, the sooner we finish, the sooner we get to leave," she said with a sly smile and ran a hand through his hair.   
  
He lifted his head and stared at her, catching the hidden meaning in her statement. "Alright, fine," he kissed her cheek before releasing her. "You win."   
  
"I promise," she slid off his lap. "We can both win later."   
  
He chuckled and slipped his glasses back on. "Have you even found anything yet?" he inquired, leafing through his book again.   
  
"Not yet," she was bent over her own tome once more. "But, I know there's something here, I can feel it."   
  
They continued to work in silence, the only sounds their breathing and turning of pages. He was about to close the latest volume in front of him and reach for a new one, when something caught his eye. At the very bottom of the page, after a rather long and boring article about Dementors, was a small footnote_: For additional information, see also Umbra Antitheus_. His eyes widened as he continued to stare at the simple sentence.   
  
"Um, Hermione?" he interrupted her searching.   
  
"What Harry?"   
  
"I know we were looking for anima caterra," he slid the book towards her. "But, what else did Madam Lissette call it?"   
  
She looked at the page, her eyes brightening considerably as she read the words. "Harry!" she exclaimed excitedly. "That's it! You found it!"   
  
He flushed at her praise. "Er - thanks," he grinned. "But, we still have to find anything dealing with Umbra Antitheus," he sighed and reached for another book.   
  
"But it's a start," she grinned, her eyes shinning.   
  
***   
  
"Ugh, have you ever seen anything more hideous?" Ron held up a picture of a Black Forrest Troll, his face wrinkling in disgust. Next to him Lavender grimaced.   
  
"Never," she shook her head. "Not even Parvati without make-up," she shivered lightly.   
  
"Lavender!" Ron exclaimed with mock shock. "I can't believe you just said that about your best friend!"   
  
She blushed and dropped her eyes to her lap. "Yes well," she shrugged, offering nothing more in her defense.   
  
Ron smirked and drew her closer. "I think I should punish you for your comment Ms. Brown," he said in a low voice.   
  
"Really?" she stared at him with soft eyes. "Maybe you should," her mouth curved upwards in a smile.   
  
He licked his lips nervously before pressing them softly against hers. He pulled back slightly so he could judge from her expression to make sure that he wasn't doing anything wrong. He wasn't and his blood rioted in his veins as he dipped his head once more and captured her lips with his.   
  
"Wow," Lavender breathed, her voice hitching in her throat as she gulped in air.   
  
"Yeah," Ron murmured, smoothing away several strands of hair that were clinging to her forehead. "My feelings exactly."   
  
She blushed, her cheeks turning a deep red and she buried her head against his chest.   
  
"Ahem, I hope we're not disturbing anything," Harry's amused voice sent them both flying to opposite ends of the couch.   
  
"Er - ah well," it was Ron's turn to flush.   
  
"S'okay Ron, Lavender," Harry chuckled and came to stand in front of them. "Sorry to interrupt you really."   
  
"S'okay," Ron muttered back while Lavender's response to was to nervously smooth out the wrinkles in her robes.   
  
"Anyway," Harry went on, turning to look at Hermione. "We've got something to tell you."   
  
"What?" Ron, happy to be doing something other than writing an essay, pushed the book off his lap.   
  
"We've had a breakthrough," Hermione interjected. "We finally found something in our research," she smiled. "Sort of."   
  
"Really?" Lavender piped up, finally over her embarrassment and sliding closer to Ron. "Where?"   
  
"We got a note from Professor Lupin to get access to the Restricted Section," she seated herself in an overstuffed chair across from them. "Harry found it actually," she smiled at him.   
  
"It's not much," he went on. "But I was going through a book that had information on Dementors and there was a footnote on the bottom about Umbra Antitheus," he shrugged. "It's a start at least."   
  
"Wicked," Ron smiled at the both of them. "So what's next?"   
  
"Another trip to the library," Hermione stated. "At least this time we know Dementors are somehow related to Umbra Antitheus."   
  
"Let us know if we can help," Lavender offered.   
  
"Exactly," Ron nodded in agreement. "But, if you two don't mind, we still have an essay to write," he motioned to the small pile of book and parchment on the floor.   
  
"What?" Hermione smirked. "No stuff to do?"   
  
"Hermione?" Ron said quietly, his ears almost glowing. "Sod off and go find your own stuff to do."   
  
***   
  
"You knew didn't you?" Harry accused her as they climbed the stairs.   
  
"Knew what?" she blinked.   
  
"What Ron had been doing instead of his essay," he chuckled.   
  
"Really Harry," she tossed her hair. "It wasn't that hard to figure out. He turned as red as a tomato when I asked him," she grinned as they came to a stop in front of her dormitory. "So," she looked up at him with her sly smirk. "Want to come in and do some of our own stuff?"   
  
***   
  
"Is everything set?" Harry asked anxiously. Hermione's birthday had rapidly approached and he needed to make certain that his plans weren't going to be ruined.   
  
"Yep," Ron smiled. "The common room is officially off limits tomorrow night," he crossed his arms.   
  
"Thank you," Harry sighed in relief. "I hope I didn't cause too much trouble for you."   
  
"Nah," Ron waved it off. "Besides, they can't really argue with me, being Prefect and all," he winked. "And, practically everyone knew it was for you and Hermione and were more than willing to stay clear that night."   
  
Harry groaned. "Is that why everyone has been smiling at me? Or running away giggling?" he arched an eyebrow.   
  
"I suppose," Ron said nonchalantly. "Hey," he defended himself when he saw Harry's annoyed look. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't say anything to anyone."   
  
He continued to glare.   
  
"Okay, okay," Ron backed away from him. "So maybe I mentioned something to Seamus and Dean," he finally admitted. "And Ginny, and Lavender already knew about it," he paused. "But that was it, I swear!"   
  
Harry grunted in response.   
  
"Sorry," Ron muttered.   
  
"It's alright," he sighed. "I suppose everyone would have found out anyway," he shrugged. "Let's just hope Hermione doesn't know."   
  
"Too right," Ron nodded. "But, tomorrow night, the common room is all yours," he winked.   
  
***   
  
She staggered to the common room at about a quarter to seven from the library. She'd been in a state of curiosity all day when Harry had told her, in a vague manner, to be in the common room at seven. Throughout all her classes, she found her mind wandering, wondering why he'd been so secretive about the whole thing. It never occurred to her as to what day it was.   
  
Adjusting her overflowing bag on her shoulder more securely, she came to a stop in front of the Fat Lady.   
  
"Hello dear," the Fat Lady chirped from her frame. "You're looking a mite tired today. You shouldn't work so hard."   
  
She smiled weakly in response to the picture's comment. "_Flutterbudget_," she stated the password.   
  
"Thank you my dear," the portrait swung open. "Have a good night."   
  
"Thanks," Hermione muttered as she stepped through the opening, and proceeded to stop dead in her tracks, her mouth slightly agape and her eyes wide.   
  
The common room, uncharacteristically empty for this time of night, was awash with the light of a hundred flickering candles which hovered gently in the air. A fire was burning brightly in the fireplace, and several bouquets of red and white roses were sprinkled throughout the room. In the middle, directly in front of the stone fireplace, a blanket was spread out on the floor, and a white frosted cake sat on a crystal platter.   
  
"Oh," her book bag slipped from her shoulder and crashed to the floor.   
  
"I take it you like it?" a laughing voice filled her ears and a pair of arms slipped around her from behind.   
  
"Harry," she whispered, her wide eyes drinking in every detail. "Did you do all this by yourself?"   
  
Laughter rumbled through his chest as he drew her closer. "Sadly, no, I didn't. Ron made sure the room was cleared out, Lavender helped with the flowers, and Dobby," he rested his chin on the top of her head. "Dobby made the cake," he paused. "Happy birthday Hermione," he kissed the back of her neck.   
  
"Thank you," she said softly, tears springing to her eyes. "I love it."   
  
"If you love it," he frowned. "Then why are you crying?" he chased away a tear with the back of his hand.   
  
"It's just," she sniffed and wiped her leaking eyes with her fingertips. "Oh never mind, it's silly," she laughed slightly.   
  
"Hermione," he turned her round so that she faced him. "It can't be that silly," he flashed her a grin. "Come on."   
  
"Alright," she sighed and gave in. "It's just no one has ever done anything like this for me, well other than my parents," she shrugged. "It's just, it's just so sweet," she gave him a wobbly smile. "Thank you," she whispered as she stared up at him, her hands making their way up his chest.   
  
"You're welcome," he managed to choke out; the sensation of her hands gliding up his body was torturous, in a good way. "Come on," he shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Come have some of your birthday cake."   
  
"In a minute," she wrapped her arms round his neck. "I have one thing left to do," she gave him a wide smile.   
  
"What?" he gave her a confused look.   
  
"This," she whispered, and tugged his head down while she rose up on tiptoe and met his lips with hers in a drugging kiss. She heard him sigh in contentment, felt his arms tighten around her and press her as close as he could.   
  
Finally they broke away; their breathing ragged and faces flushed.   
  
Harry chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. "If I would have known that you'd react that way," he cupped her face in his hands. "I would have thrown you a party ages ago," he grinned.   
  
"I love you Harry Potter," she held his eyes as her hands grabbed a handful of his robes, pulling herself closer to his tall frame.   
  
His eyes darkened from their usual sparkling emerald green, to something deeper mixed with desire, at her action. The urge to kiss her was so strong that he had no choice but to follow it. "I love you too Hermione," he rasped out, reaching out with lightly trembling hands and removing her glasses before he crashed his lips against hers. "So much," he murmured against her lips as he curled one hand in her hair, the other held her glasses. 

"I can't believe I was worried all day for nothing," she murmured when they finally broke apart from their second heated snog.

"You were worried?" he asked, an amused smile on his face.

"Well, yes," she flushed slightly. "You were so indistinct this morning when you told me to meet you here," she nibbled on her lip. "I wasn't sure what to think."

"I was sure you'd find out about it," he brushed her hair away from her eyes. "I mean, practically the entire house knew about it and you know how people love to gossip around here."

Hermione shook her head. "If they talked, they must have been pretty discreet about it. I didn't hear a thing," she paused and cocked her head to the side. "But, now that you mention it, I did notice everyone acting a bit queer around me," she sighed. "The girls mostly, even the first years I might add."

"Thank Ron and Lavender," Harry informed her with a smile. "And probably Ginny as well," he kissed the top of her head. "But come on, we best try the cake, otherwise Dobby might have a fit," he pulled away from her and led her to the blanket.

"Yes well, we wouldn't want that would we?" she giggled softly. "Thank you," she said as he handed her a plate with a slice of cake. "It looks delicious," and she took a delicate bite. "Remind me," she began, after she'd swallowed. "To thank him," she licked a bit of frosting off her lower lip. "It's wonderful."

"Right," Harry answered in a daze; his eyes transfixed on her mouth as her tongue darted out to touch her lips. "So," he shook his head to clear this thoughts. "Would you like your present now or later?"

At the mention of the word 'present', Hermione's eyes lit up in excitement. "Now please," she grinned and set her plate down.

"Alright," he took a deep breath and reached in his pocket. "Remember when we were in Hogsmead and I forgot something?" he asked, clutching the velvet box in a vise-like grip. "And I wouldn't tell you what I forgot?"

She nodded.

"It was your birthday present," he withdrew his hand. "Now, I – I know you're not one to wear such things," he stuttered, everything within him hoping she would like it. "But, well, oh sod it," he extended his hand towards her, the jewelry box cradled in his palm.  


"Oh Harry," her eyes began filling with tears and she reached out with trembling hands to take the box from him, her slender fingers smoothing over the soft surface. 

"Open it," he said eagerly, wanting to see her reaction.

"Alright," she took a deep breath and opened the box. Inside, simmering and sparkling, was a glittering necklace fashioned out of pure silver, complete with a sapphire pendant. Scrolling flowers traced the outside edge of the blue stone and led back up to the chain. "H – Harry," she breathed, her eyes wide as she traced a fingertip over it. "I – I don't know what to say," she blinked rapidly, determined not to lose her head and start crying.

"Say you like it," he urged her, storing the look of wonderment that spread over her face in the back of his mind.

"Like it?" she lifted her watery eyes to lock with his. "I love it," she gave a wobbly grin and flung her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she whispered as he cradled her against his chest. "It's beautiful."

"Just like you," he whispered against her neck, relieved that she adored her present. "Turn it over," he told her. "There's something on the back."

She did as instructed and had to squint slightly to read the fine cursive writing. _Never will I leave_ _you_. The tears that she thought she had under control, sprang to her eyes once more. After sucking in a deep breath to control her raging emotions, she finally spoke. "Will you put it on for me?" she asked, handing him the necklace and sweeping her hair away from her neck.

He gulped, praying that he wouldn't make a fool of himself while trying to open the tiny clasp. Fate, thankfully, had been smiling down at him as he got it on the first try, no fumbling, no sweating, no cursing under his breath. Gathering a still awe-struck Hermione in his arms, he rested his chin lightly on her shoulder. "Happy birthday Hermione," he said again and kissed her gently.

***

In the deep recesses of the Hogwarts castle, long fingers caressed the blood red orb that was hanging from their neck with lazy strokes. A sardonic smile was etched across a emotionless face, and two eyes glittered brightly in the silent room. "Tomorrow," the voice whispered. "My ideas of revenge will become reality. Enjoy your time while it lasts, because tomorrow, you will begin to understand what kind of power I control." 

~*~

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As you can see, nothing really significant happened in this chapter. I know, I know, you're probably all wondering why I made you wait so long for a filler chapter. I wish I could tell you since I'm not too sure myself. But, there are some hidden clues sprinkled throughout that will be addressed in upcoming chapters. Until then though, everyone enjoy reading Harry Potter and The Order of The Phoenix when it comes out!


	6. Chapter Six

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Disclaimer: _As always, nothing belongs to me, but to the brilliant JK Rowling._

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Author's Note: _Well I should have known that OoTP would have blown my story out of the water. Gah, oh well, what can I do about it. Since a majority of this story was written before book 6, I've decided to continue as is…thus firmly locking this story into the AU category. For those of you who haven't read OoTP, there will be no spoilers within UA/SD. And while I still think JK is a brilliant author, I still can't believe what she did…as far as the death and all._

As for the lack of updating, well, I'd love to blame it on OoTP and being so horribly disappointed at the fact that Harry and Hermione aren't together yet, but that's not the reason. The only excuse I can give you is that I was working, then working, and then working some more...and drat it, it so wasn't worth it. Being broke is a horrible pain in the rear. Anyway, I've finally got a weekend to myself, and am ready to roll. Now, for those of you who think you've figured out who the Master is, think very, very carefully…I still have a few twists and turns left before revealing all to you. Keep your fingers crossed that I can get to updating faster so you're not all waiting, or forgetting. Keep in mind, snogging abounds throughout the chapter, and, there is more of Ron and Lavender per _oneiros lykos__'s request._

Anyway, onto some more shameless promoting. Fae Princess has just recently updated "Circle's Close" if you didn't know already. For those of you who haven't read it, it's definitely a must read. She's a brilliant writer in my humble opinion. I should be slapped really, she's a way better author than I am, and she can update faster than I can. But enough of that, I'll slap myself later. And secondly, Stoneheart1's "The Joining"…need I say more about him? 

The beginning quote of chapter six isn't mine either, but from the song "Insanity". Yes I know, I listen to sick and twisted music sometimes. Here's where you'll get to see exactly what the anima caterra actually does, sort of. More in depth detail will be brought to light in later chapters. Although, if you simply can't wait, you'd be better off searching for an English-Latin dictionary online and type in "anima" and "caterra"…it should be what I think it is unless I've used the wrong one. It should give you a basic hint, just like Dementor's did. But enough of my babbling…let's get to chapter six, I hope it doesn't disappoint you. And of course, special thanks to all who reviewed for chapter five…you have my undying gratitude. 

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Sabrian-05: I'm happy to hear that you like this story and the first one as well. It means a lot. As far as what the "awful" creature is going to do, well, you'll just have to read and find out. I'm assuming you'll get a basic idea towards the end. And yes, as you can see, I am planning on finishing the story, and if it's your birthday really soon, happy birthday!

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Cybershot: You think I rock eh? Well, thanks for the complement and the review. Yes, I love the idea of Harry/Hermione…let's all hope JK likes it too.

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Galtxtr:_ Ah yes, portkey…yep, as you can see, I haven't made it around to that yet. Hopefully I'll get myself in gear and just apply. It's good to see you again, I hope you like this chapter. See you around the message boards maybe. _

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Hermharry: Yes I know…I left you all hanging at the end of chapter five. Sorry about that. Maybe this'll make up for it?

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Fae Princess: Did you get my review about you being second best? Just keep that in mind.

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Jandl: Yeah, wish I had a boyfriend like Harry too…unfortunately I don't. Ah well, life goes on.

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Stoneheart1: I hope you didn't find OoTP too disappointing, although I will say this, I hope JK writes book six much faster. As far as you outsmarting yourself, perhaps. By the way, love the new story…I'll be getting you a review for your latest chapter really soon.

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Leah6: I tried not to make any grammatical errors, although there may still be one or two here and there. Maybe I should get a beta huh?

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**__**

I'd love to hear you laugh tonight,

I'd love to hear you weep.

I'd love to listen to you while you're screaming in your sleep…

"Insanity" Boingo

***

She was having the most wonderful dream. A dream of her and Harry, alone, in the common room, with dozens of flickering candles gently bobbing up and down as they hovered a few feet above their heads. A roaring fire burned brightly, the flames adding to the soft glow that already engulfed the silent room. A fluffy, scarlet blanket lay neatly on the floor, and she was safely tucked into Harry's warm embrace as he trailed kisses down her neck. The mere touch of his lips swamping her with various emotions and sending heat twisting through her veins and collecting in the pit of her stomach.

A dreamy smile tugged at her lips and she rolled over, her eyes opening ever so slightly to register the first golden rays of light creeping their way through the window, the final images of her dream slipping away as softly as mist. Stifling a groan of disappointment, she drew a hand up to her neck, the small frown disappearing as her fingers came in contact with a smooth object. Memories of her dream rolled through her mind once again, and she smiled lazily, reminded that last night hadn't been her imagination, but in fact, reality.

She had spent a good portion of the night snuggled next to Harry as they lounged on the common room floor, talking mostly, but sharing a few heated and heavy snogs as well. Hovering between the fine line of dreams and reality, she remembered what it was like to have her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, or how his fingertips seemed to spread fire across her skin as he trailed them over her slowly. They hadn't done anything they weren't ready for, or that they would regret come morning, although the atmosphere of the room certainly tempted the both of them.

Raising the pendant up to eye level, she lovingly traced her fingertip around the scrolling, flowered edge and over the deep blue stone, watching the rising sun catch and wink, reflecting off the sparkling gem as it reached farther into the quiet room and threw colorful prisms on the stone walls. Turning it over, she reread the words etched onto the back. _Never will I leave you_.

__

You'd never have the chance Harry, she thought rather smugly. _You're stuck with me_.

A muffled grunt emitted from the four-poster next to her, breaking through her silent dialogue, followed by the soft whisper of fabric as Lavender shifted and raised her head, squinting and blinking sleepily.

"Ugh," she stretched slightly, her blue eyes promptly slamming shut as the sun continued to inch its way across the floor. "Morning Hermione," she yawned, covering her mouth with a dainty hand.

"Morning Lavender," she returned the greeting with a hushed voice and a wide smile, aware that the rest of her roommates were still sleeping.

"You're awfully chipper this early in the morning," Lavender commented with another yawn. "Any particular reason why? Or are you always like this?" Being a late sleeper, Lavender had never witnessed a Hermione that wasn't already dressed for class and flipping through a random textbook.

Hermione only smiled in response, her hand still wrapped around Harry's gift. Both girls lay quietly for a moment before Lavender broke it once more.

"So," she asked, her tone sly. "How was your night last night?" she didn't turn to face her, merely folded her hands across her chest and continued to stare up at the ceiling, a smirk on her face. 

Hermione sighed happily, a girlish giggle threatening to break forth from her lips and ring throughout the dorm room. "It was," she paused; suddenly hard pressed for words to describe the true impact it had on her. "It was, amazing," she finally breathed out.

Across from her, Lavender's smirk turned into a full-blown grin. "Well I'm glad," she said sincerely. "And," she arched a golden eyebrow and sat up, swinging her legs out from underneath her covers and sauntered over towards Hermione's bed. "What did he get you?" she asked as she plopped down next to her. 

"This," Hermione answered simply, uncovering the necklace.

"Oh, Hermione," Lavender's eyes grew wider and her jaw sagged slightly. "It's, it's beautiful," she let out a whisper.

"I know," she nodded in agreement as she too glanced down to look at the sparkling orb once more. 

"Wow," Lavender continued to gawk. "So that's what he was doing in Hogsmead," she muttered, more to herself but loud enough for Hermione to hear.

"What?" she questioned, her eyebrows raised as she studied the girl before her.

"Oops," Lavender slapped a hand over her mouth as a telltale flush began creeping up her neck. "Did I just say that out loud?" she asked, horrified.

"Yes," Hermione confirmed and then paused. "Wait a minute," she sat up, scooting backwards to rest against her headboard. "Are you telling me that you and Ron were in on the whole thing?" arms were crossed over her chest.

The blonde let out a low sigh and dropped her eyes to focus on the swirling pattern of the bedspread. "Um," she stuttered, tracing over one of the golden swirls with her finger. "Well, I, I suppose we were," she finally admitted.

There was a moment of silence before Hermione's silvery chuckle filled the room. "I should have known," she shook her head, her face breaking out in a smile. "And then the planning of last night? Harry said you and Ron helped out."

Lavender nodded sheepishly. "Guilty again," she shrugged her shoulders. "Practically everyone knew about it," she spared Hermione a look. "I'm surprised you didn't figure it out for yourself."

Hermione ducked her head. "I had absolutely no idea," she swept a lock of hair behind her ear. "I guess I was too absorbed with studying and all that I'd completely forgotten what day it was."

"Well I for one am glad you didn't figure it out," Lavender stretched her shoulders. "Harry would have been highly disappointed if you had," she slid off the bed and stood up. "You've got a great boyfriend Hermione, and an even better friend in Harry Potter."

"I know," she agreed, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I know."

***

"Hey," a hand firmly gripped the sleeping boy's shoulder and gave it a hearty shake. "Wake up."

"Geroff," the mound of blankets and sheets squirmed, trying to wriggle away from the incessant shaking.

"Come on Harry," above him, Ron Weasley's eyes gleamed in curiosity and amusement. 

With a deep sigh and a muffled curse, Harry clawed his way out the covers, and squinted up at his best friend who was towering over him. "What?" he asked, his voice gravelly with sleep.

"What he asks," Ron shook his head as he spoke to the ceiling and wondered if he'd lost his mind. "I'm only talking about the big night," he fixed Harry with a steady look and waited for an answer. "Well?" he prompted; an auburn eyebrow arched and arms crossed about his chest.

"Well what?" Harry rolled over, focusing his blurry eyes on the clock on his beside table and ignoring his friend's interrogation. "Ron," he began, somewhat crossly. "It's only 7:30, and Saturday," he flopped face first onto his pillow once more. "Go away and wake me when it's time for lunch."

Eyes were rolled. "Not a chance, I'm hungry now," this was emphasized by a growling noise coming deep from Ron's stomach. "And," the redhead went on. "I want to hear all about it. I think you owe me that much considering all the trouble I went through to clear out the room," a smug smile was attached to his lips.

Laying motionless for a moment, Harry finally sighed, giving up all hope that Ron would let him fall back asleep, and rolled over on his back. "You know," he rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands. "For someone, who didn't want to witness any 'mushy' stuff over the summer," he dropped his hands and laced them behind his head. "You're awfully nosey this morning."

"I'm a glutton for punishment," Ron spread his hands and grinned as he lowered his tall frame to sit on the edge of Harry's bed. "Besides, I have to make certain you didn't make any unwanted advances on my best friend," his grin turned devilish. "Because if you have, I'll have to turn you into a frog, or some other form of scum-sucking creature."

Harry bit back a return grin, his green eyes sparkling in happiness. "You can drop the big brother act Ron," he yawned and sat up, black hair twisted wildly. "I didn't make any inappropriate moves on Hermione," he scrubbed his face with his hands and then reached out to fumble for his glasses. "I swear," he did smile then as he slipped his glasses on.

"Good," Ron said after a slight pause, and gave a slight nod at Harry's answer. "Good," he hoisted himself up from his perch and rubbed his stomach. "Did she like it?" 

"Yeah," Harry answered softly. "Yeah she did," a small smile played about his lips.

"I thought she would," he muttered and then looked pointedly at him. "So, are you going to sit there all day? I'm bloody starving here," he jabbed a thumb towards himself as his stomach gave off another loud rumble.

Harry let out a chuckle and rolled out of bed. "Okay, okay," he stumbled over to his trunk and dug some clothes out. "Give me five minutes," he stopped as he saw Ron's pained look. "Trust me Ron," he slung his trousers and his jumper over his shoulder. "You won't starve to death in five minutes."

***

"Good morning you two," Lavender's sultry voice filled the common room, making Ron's ears tint pink at the mere sound of it. "I see you're both up early," she and Hermione were descending the staircase that led down from the girls dormitory.

"Yes well," Harry shot a sideways glance at Ron. "It wasn't by choice," he smirked at the far off look in Ron's eyes as they followed Lavender's graceful movement down the stairs.

"Morning," Hermione sidled up next to him, rose up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Morning to you too," Harry dropped her a wink and ran a hand lovingly down her arm, stopping at her hand and tangling his fingers with hers. His heart swelled at the sight of the necklace that was nestled near the hollow of her throat.

"Ahem," Ron fake coughed from the other side of the room where he and Lavender where waiting by the door, his arm looped round her shoulders. "Are you two joining us for breakfast? Or are you just going to have each other?" he cackled until Lavender jabbed him.

"Jealous Ron?" Harry drawled lazily, uncoiling his hand from Hermione's and hooking his arm round her waist to pull her closer. "I'm sure Lavender wouldn't mind terribly if…" he got no further when Hermione's elbow plowed into his stomach.

"Harry," she glared at him, doing her best to frown although her lips twitched.

"Boys," Lavender sighed out in a huff and glowered, but her cheeks were burning red. "Can't get your minds out of the gutter," she clucked and hooked a hand through Ron's elbow. "Come along mindless git," she teased as she steered him towards the portrait. "We're going to breakfast."

"Mindless git," Ron sulked as she tugged him through the opening. "Why is it that _I_ don't get to call _you_ names?"

Behind them, Harry and Hermione shared a chuckle. "Shall we?" Harry swept an arm out before her, gesturing for them to follow the other couple to the Great Hall.

"Of course," Hermione said primly, trailing a slender hand across his shoulders. She had just taken a step forward when he caught her arm and spun her back around to face him. "Harry!" she squealed, her free hand landed firmly on his chest and stopped her from crashing into him. "What are you doing?" she stared up into his eyes.

He shrugged and then grinned. "Giving my girlfriend a proper good morning kiss," he whispered as he lowered his head to meet her lips with his. Her sigh of contentment was lost to him as his heart beat loudly in his ears. It was amazing, he could share dozens and dozens of kisses with her, and each time they affected him in the same heart pounding, mind numbing way. She was like a drug, slipping effortlessly into his veins, seeping into his mind until it made him dizzy with desire and making him feel as though he could fly without the use of wings or his Firebolt. Easily addicting and extremely hard to get over.

Her lips were soft and warm, her breath laced with the taste of her toothpaste, and the smell of her hair filled his senses and swirled round and round in his brain, burning into his heart and soul. Finally they pulled away, her cheeks flushed slightly, and her brown eyes turning into liquid fire. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip and then trailed his hand down her neck, feeling the shivers that he created as he did so. Stopping at her necklace, he covered it with his palm. "I love you," he whispered.

Her breath caught in her throat, the way it always did when he looked at her with his burning gaze. Beneath her fingers, she felt the wild thumping of his heart as it beat madly in his breast. "I love you too," she felt her knees threatening to turn to water as she locked eyes with him. "Never will I leave you," she lifted her hand and placed it gently on the side of his face.

He gave a small smile and then blinked. "Hey," he pretended to scowl at her. "That's my line Ms. Granger," his fingers encircled her wrist.

She threw him a wobbly grin and smoothed her fingers over his cheek. "I know," she admitted. "But, it goes both ways you know."

"I know," he gripped her wrist tighter and brought her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm. "I suppose we should go before Ron eats all the food."

Hermione snickered and drew away. "I suppose we should," she tugged at his hand. "I am sort of hungry."

***

"Mindless git," Ron was still huffing about Lavender's recent nickname for him as they walked from Gryffindor Tower to the Great Hall. Beside him, Lavender snickered and refused to look at him for fear she'd break out into great peels of laughter at his expense.

"Oh come off it Ron," she finally had enough of his sighing and muttering. "It's not like I think you're a mindless git all the time," she flashed him a bright smile.

"Oh ho ho," he stopped dead in the hallway, an action which halted Lavender as well. "So you _do_ think I'm a mindless git," he stared at her pointedly, not really angry with her, but wanting to tease her some. 

"Of course," she rolled her eyes. "Even you've admitted it before," her look dared him to deny it.

He paused, thought, and silently agreed with her, although he wasn't about to tell her that. "That's beside the point," he argued and crossed his arms. "_I_ think you owemean apology," he said smugly as he leaned against a stone pillar.

"What?" she was floored.

"You heard me, an apology."

She fixed him with a slight glare, which he matched, and then sniffed. "Fine," she looked away. "You win, I'm sorry."

"No, no," he shook his head. "Not good enough," he pushed himself away from the pillar and took a step forward, standing toe to toe with her. "But I can think of a better way for you to say you're sorry," his blue eyes twinkled.

"You, you," Lavender fumed, slapping a hand on his chest even as she felt a surge of heat roll through her as she caught the devious glint in his eyes.

Ron chuckled then, grasped her hand and tugged her back into the shadows of a secluded corner. "I am a mindless git at times," he admitted, still keeping a hold of her hand and his eyes trained on her lips. 

She licked them unconsciously, her eyes tracing over his features. "But that's why I like you so much," she whispered, snaking her arms around his neck, and pulled him downwards where she met him halfway.

***

"I wonder where they are," Hermione commented as she and Harry seated themselves at the long, oak table. "I was sure Ron would be on his third helping by now."

Beside her, Harry shrugged as he scooped eggs onto his plate. "Maybe they stopped in the hall for a snogging session," he joked, snagging several pieces of toast.

"Hmm," Hermione shrugged and took a sip from a mug of coffee that was before her.

"Ugh," he wrinkled his nose at the black liquid. "How can you drink that?" 

"Have you ever had it?" she asked, setting the mug back down and helping herself to some French toast.

"No," he admitted. "I've had to make it for the Dursley's before, just never liked the smell I suppose."

"Hmm," she mused again, a half smile on her lips as she lifted the cup once more.

"Hey," Ron breathed out, sliding onto the bench across from them with Lavender not too far behind. "Sorry we're late."

"That's okay," Hermione picked up her fork and knife and proceeded to cut her French toast into neat squares before drizzling maple syrup over it. "But before you do anything else, you may want to wipe the lipstick off your cheek Ronald, that particular shade clashes horribly with your hair."

Across from her, Lavender's face turned into a fiery shade of red while Ron's mouth dropped open slightly and a horrified look crossed his face. Hermione merely smirked at her plate and Harry let out a loud hoot of laughter.

"Well, well," came an icy drawl from his left. "If it isn't the golden boy and his precious girlfriend."

"What do you want Malfoy?" the laughter was instantly gone from Harry's voice as he glared at the sneering boy next to him. "Shouldn't you be at _your _table with the rest of the snakes?"

Draco scowled and glared back, fully aware that Ron was shooting daggers at him with his eyes. Pale gray eyes slid away from Harry and came to rest on the furious face of Hermione and then down to the glittering jewel strung round her neck. "Really Potter," he sneered. "You shouldn't have spent all your money on that," he waved a hand at Hermione. "It doesn't make her look any better you know."

"Malfoy," Harry hissed from between his teeth. "You slimy, arrogant, son of a…"

"Harry," Hermione laid a hand on his arm. "He's not worth it," she met Draco's cool look with her own heated one.

The lone Slytherin stood there defiantly, his arms crossed, and a slight smirk on his face. "And Weasley," he switched targets before any of them could do anything. "What's that hideous mark on your face? It's almost as if it's an improvement."

At that, Ron shot out of his seat, his face as red as his hair and his fist curled at his sides. Before he could let out an angry retort, Draco sneered once more then turned on his heel and stalked away to his side of the Great Hall.

"That bloody bastard," he growled as he lowered himself back into his seat and thumped a fist on the tabletop. "Slimy git," he angrily skewered a helpless piece of toast with his fork and turned to send one more glare at the Slytherin table where Malfoy was sitting with a smug look on his face.

***

"Are you guys up for a visit with Hagrid?" Harry suggested to the other three once breakfast was done and they'd retreated to the safe haven of their common room. Since it was Saturday, they had a whole day of freedom ahead of them.

"Sure," Ron was still rubbing at his face, paranoid that there were still visible traces of Lavender's lipstick and still steaming mad at Malfoy. "Are you coming with?" he questioned the girl next to him.

"Erm, no," she shook her head. "I promised Parvati that I would spend some time with her today," she offered a small smile. 

"Alright," Ron nodded, slightly disappointed that he wouldn't have her all to himself.

"How about you?" Harry questioned Hermione who'd remained unusually silent since breakfast.

"I suppose," she mulled the thought over in her mind. "But I would like to get a bit of studying done today as well," she drummed her fingers on the armrest of the couch.

Ron snorted at her response but kept his snide comment to himself before Hermione could shoot him a deadly glare. "Well then," he stood up from the chair he'd been sharing with Lavender. "Shall we go?" and he gave Lavender a wink.

Harry and Hermione both nodded and rose from their spot by the fire, Harry stopping her for a moment while Ron bid goodbye to his girlfriend. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"I'm fine," she flashed him a smile.

"Really?"

She sighed and then shrugged. "I know Malfoy is a complete prat, and that I shouldn't care what he says. But, it doesn't make his words sting any less."

"I know," he nodded and cupped her chin in his hand. "But he's dead wrong Hermione," he said seriously. "You're more beautiful than any old piece of jewelry."

***

"'Ello yeh three," Hagrid's bushy beard and wide smile greeted them after they'd pounded on his door. "It's 'bout time yeh came fer a visit," he ushered them inside. "I was just 'bout to make some tea," he lumbered across the room, his heavy boots shaking the flooring of his little hut.

"How have you been Hagrid?" Hermione asked while she shrugged off her cloak and laid it over the back of his enormous wingback chair and stepped closer to the fire, trying to warm her hands.

"Not bad, not bad at all," he rattled around his kitchen, producing four mugs and saucers. "Sorry class 'as been a mite boring," he apologized as he poured the steaming liquid. "But I've got a new animal fer Monday's class," he motioned them to join him at the table.

"Wicked," Ron grinned as he clambered up the stool and wrapped both hands around the mug. A plate of Hagrid's rock cakes were plopped down in front of him which both Ron and Harry shared a dubious look over.

"So," Hagrid settled himself onto his chair, the wood groaning in protest under his weight. "'Ow was yer summer 'Arry?" he slurped his tea.

"Good," Harry shrugged. "It's much better than living with the Dursley's."

The half-giant chuckled. "And Sirius? 'Ow is he?"

"Fine I suppose. I haven't written to him since I've been back at school."

Hagrid nodded and slurped his tea. "Perhaps you and 'Ermione can clear something up fer me," he set his mug down with a heavy clunk and reached out a meaty hand to swipe up a rock cake. "I've 'eard a rumor round the teachers table," he paused to take a bite, his teeth breaking through the tough dough with a loud crunch. "That you and 'Ermione are somewhat of a thing," he continued to chew and his black beard was littered with crumbs.

Across from him, both Harry and Hermione blushed furiously while Hagrid looked on with a twinkle in his eyes. "And from the look on yer faces, I see it's true," he reached out and slapped Harry on the back, nearly sending him headfirst into his tea.

He caught himself, just barely, by his hands placed on either side of the mug, his shoulder stinging slightly where Hagrid slapped him. Smiling sheepishly, he cast Hermione a glance, noting that she had turned a rosy shade of pink at his words. Ron was chortling on the other side of Hagrid. "Yeah," he ducked his head and stared at his drink. "I guess it is."

***

The three of them tramped back inside, their cloaks and shoes wet with the rain that had begun falling while they were visiting Hagrid. 

"Right you two," Ron announced as they trudged down the empty corridors. "I'm off to find Lavender," he informed them as he undid his cloak. "I'll see you both at dinner," and he hurried off in front of them.

"I take it you're going to the library?" Harry turned to ask Hermione.

She nodded. "Just for a bit," they climbed the staircase together and waited patiently for the stairs to move back into place. "And then I'm all yours," she grinned at him.

He felt his insides begin to smolder. "Sounds great," he managed to spit out. "Besides, I need to catch up on my Potions homework," he shuddered at the thought of Snape. She gave him a sympathetic smile as they stopped in front of the Fat Lady who swung open a moment later after Hermione stated the password.

"Meet you back here in two hours?" Hermione asked as she headed towards her dorm room to change out of her wet socks and robe before she went to the library.

"Fine," Harry nodded as he stood before the fireplace, feeling the warmth trickle into his feet and hands.

She gave him a wide smile and blew him a kiss before she disappeared into her room.

***

"Umbra Antitheus," Hermione muttered to herself as she scanned the long row of books before her, her eyebrows knit together as she contemplated titles and authors. She had been working on her paper for Arithmancy, which was due within several weeks. But she was having a hard time concentrating on it, opting instead to search for any more information regarding Madam Lissette's anima caterra. 

"Wondrous Wild Beasts and Where To Find Them," she muttered out loud and then instantly rejected it. "The Seven Deadly Curses," she read next. _No, no, that's not it either. Blast, where could it be? Dementors, it has something to do with Dementors…but what? _One finger was gently tapping against her chin as her eyes ran over various titles.

The next title she'd stumbled across seemed promising. "Ancient Myths and Legends," she read from the book's spine. Letting out a sigh and deciding to take a chance, she reached up and slid the book off the shelf. Hearing a faint dinging coming from somewhere in the quiet room, she glanced at the nearest clock, letting out a silent curse that she was late in meeting Harry back in the common room. 

Gathering up her parchment and quill, she stuffed them into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Myths and Legends tucked firmly under her arm as she approached Madam Pince to check it out. She left the library in a hurry, feeling slightly guilty that she was going to be late. She had one more detour before she met up with him. She rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of the fruit painting. Reaching out, she tickled the pear and stepped through the opening, the picture swinging quietly shut behind her.

***

"Hey, sorry I'm late," Hermione said breathlessly as she breezed through the common room door. "I was so busy studying that I lost track of time," she placed her book bag on the floor and flopped down next to Harry.

"It's okay," he snapped his book shut and smiled at her, setting the book down on the cushion between them. "I figured that you'd be awhile," he winked at her. 

"Did you get anything done on your Potions homework?" she asked, sparing a glance at his parchment that was only half full with his messy scrawl.

"Of course not," he sighed; tipping his head back until it rested on the back of the couch. "But, I still have all day tomorrow to try and figure it out," he slipped his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes with both hands.

She gave him a disapproving look but said nothing. Reaching down towards the floor, she snagged the steaming mug that she'd carried in with her.

"What's that?" Harry eyed it carefully after he'd replaced his glasses and watched as a sly grin slid over her features.

"You'll see," was all she said, taking a sip and staring at him over the rim of the glass, her eyes swimming mirth as she observed him.

He felt heat pooling under his shirt collar and in the pit of his stomach at her sultry look. He hated and loved it at the same time. His mouth suddenly ran dry and he was thankful that he'd removed his tie long before she'd entered the room. Rubbing the palms of his hands nervously on the knees of his trousers, he did his best to swallow the large lump that had somehow embedded itself in his throat. "W - why are you looking at me like that?" he stuttered, resisting the urge to peel his collar away from this side of his neck and let out the steam that he knew was collecting under the layers of fabric. 

She smirked and took a final swallow of whatever was contained in the cup and carefully placed it on an end table. With slow, deliberate movements, she picked up his forgotten Potions text, placed it next to the mug, and slid over to join him on his end of the couch.

"What?" he asked again as he looked down at her, his heart knocking loudly against his ribs and noticing that she was biting her lower lip to hide a smile.

Trailing a hand through his hair, it finally came to rest on the back of his neck, while the other slid up along his chest and stopped on his cheek. Feeling the slightest pressure from her hands, he allowed himself to dip his head and meet her lips in a light kiss. Drawing away slightly, he cast a glance into her eyes before crushing his lips against hers more firmly.

He felt her grin against his, felt her sigh and open her lips under his as he slipped inside. Instead of her usual taste of mint toothpaste, or some various cinnamon sweet she'd eaten, this time she tasted different. She tasted bitter and sweet at the same time, rich and syrupy, almost earthy and woodsy in an exotic sort of way. It was as if fall had turned itself into a flavor, which she'd consumed and was now sharing it with him. Sucking in a lung full of air, he pressed her back against the cushions of the couch. While he adored the taste of her before, he was beginning to like this one as well.

Pulling back after a few more heated moments, he stared down at her flushed face and into her shinning eyes. "Are you planning on telling me what you've been drinking?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

She let out a wide grin then and ran her hands through his hair, causing the strands to go every which way. "You said this morning at breakfast that you've never tried coffee before," she tapped him on the nose with a slender finger. "How do you like it?"

He blinked once, then twice as his mouth curled upwards in a half-grin. "I think I love it," he murmured just before he pressed his lips against hers once again.

***

The curtains were drawn so tightly together that no shaft of the fading light or flickering candles could penetrate through into the silent shroud. The figure lay prone, on their back in the small enclosure, while unseeing eyes stared upward. One hand was resting on their stomach, while the other rested over the necklace that lay flat against their chest. Shifting slightly, one hand reached out and carefully pulled the drape back a fraction of an inch, just enough to get a glimpse of the time and if there was anyone else in the room.

After a moment, the figure let the curtain fall back into place and lay back down with an air of satisfaction. "It's time," came the hoarse whisper, and the necklace was lifted to dry lips and kissed once again. Settling more comfortably on their back, eyes were closed and lips moved as they whispered an ancient incantation.

***

"Alright," Ron stifled a yawn and stood up from the crimson sofa, knees crackling as he went. "I'm off to bed you two," he stretched and flashed them both a smile. "See you in the morning Hermione, Harry," he nodded as he passed them.

"Good night Ron," she replied from her spot curled up beside Harry as he lazily threaded a hand through her hair while he flipped through his Potions textbook. 

"Night Ron," he grunted, not bothering to look up, as he was nearly finished with his essay. Letting out a sigh, he picked up his forgotten quill, dipped in into the inkpot and scribbled furiously on the cream colored sheet. 

Rousing herself from her reclining position, Hermione reached down and snagged the strap of her book bag, hauling it closer to herself. Fishing around for a moment, she finally pulled out a cracked, leather bound book.

"What's that?" Harry asked idly, his eyes scanning down the page.

"Nothing much," Hermione thumbed the cover open. "Just a book I got while I was in the library," her eyes darted over the fine lettering on the first page. 

"Let me guess, light reading material?"

"Ha ha," she rolled her eyes and poked out her tongue. "Sorry to disappoint you, but no, this," she looked at him. "Doesn't qualify as light reading."

"Er – oh," he finished his last sentence. "What is it for then?" he paused and squinted at the title. "Ancient Myths and Legends? What are you reading that for?"

"I thought I'd do a bit more research," she shrugged and continued to flip through the thin pages.

"And what do you expect to find in there?" he jabbed at the book with the end of his quill.

"Who knows," she shrugged, dragging a finger down a column of words. "But it was the only promising book that I'd found before I left the library."

He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I should have helped you," he apologized.

"It's alright. I don't mind," she flashed him a smile. "Let's just hope we find something soon though."

"Right. I'm hoping that Madam Lissette was making everything up," he capped his inkpot. "I was hoping for a less dramatic year this time round."

***

A thick, gray mist spewed out of the ground, long strands of it reaching and twisting its way up into the darkening sky in forked fingers. Then, as quickly as it rose, it fell back to the earth and collected in a large pool at the base of a dead oak tree. The full moon shone silver through the bare branches, spreading pale patches of light along the barren ground. The surrounding forest, which was usually filled with the singing of crickets, the high pitched squeals of bats or the low hum of swarming insects, was deathly silent. Almost as if the trees themselves were afraid to breath.

The faint sound of rustling leaves spiked through the night as the mist glided nimbly over the earth, seeping through cracks between protruding roots and over fallen branches and rocks. It moved swiftly, weaving from side to side until it reached the edge of the row of trees. It paused, hovering gently for a moment, and then quickly darted across the large expanse of lawn towards the darkened building and its unsuspecting residents.

It lingered for a moment in a dip in the ground before gliding towards the thick stonewalls. Once there, it paused again before creeping up the side and then sinking in between the cracks of the bricks and spilling out onto the empty corridor. Shying away from the bright light of the flickering torches, it clung to the dark shadows along the walls, slowing inching its way passed the Great Hall, and down the stone stairs towards the Hufflepuff common room. The smoke stopped only once when Filch and Mrs. Norris wandered down an empty hall, searching for any hapless students that were out of their beds and foolishly wandering about. 

It lay flat against the floor, waiting until Filch's footsteps faded away before slithering down the steps and past the kitchens. Oozing and rolling along in puffs of gray and black, it finally reached the twin statues of badgers guarding the Hufflepuff dorms. Spreading out into a thin line, it flowed easily over the bases of the stone guardians and slipped in through a large crack in the floor, disappearing from sight. Once inside, the gray cloud became thicker, banding together and making a more visible shape as it entered the black and yellow decorated common room. It stole silently passed the dying fire and swerved to the left, towards the girl's rooms.

A harsh laugh, low and dangerous, emitted from the ghostly figure and two yellow eyes winked into sight. A faint outline of wings traced the air at the back of the transparent shape. With a hiss, it halted in front of the first door, a puff of sulfur rising from its lungs and filling the corridor with its foul stench. With one final look round the hall, it plunged through to the other side, and all that was left was the faint smell of rotten breath and decaying flesh.

***

Evelyn Applebaum was a slender, mousy girl with long, pale blonde hair that she wore neatly in a ponytail. It was her second year at Hogwarts and she was just beginning to get over her shyness that had followed her around for years, even as a child. She'd dreaded being sent to hone her witch's skill, away from her parents and terrified that she'd have to actually speak and be noticed. After a year of going to class with the same group of girls and boys, she found that she was actually looking forward to her second year. But there was one thing she would never tell anyone, not even her mum or dad. Evelyn Applebaum was terrified of the dark. Scared to death of the dark corners where the faint moonlight couldn't reach, and was sure that things lurked under her bed, convinced that someone, or something, would reach out and grab her.

She would lie in the dark room, listening to the even breathing of her fellow roommates, who'd fallen asleep ages before her, with her eyes wide open and ears trained for any movement. Tonight was no exception. From her spot in the bed, she judged from the position of the moon, that it was roughly three in the morning. She'd dozed on and off, but jerked awake any time someone shifted or rolled over in their sleep. Chastising herself for being so jumpy, she wished for the millionth time that she would overcome her fears and be able to sleep peacefully like everyone else and stop being such a baby.

As she lay there listening to the clock ticking away the minutes, she felt her eyelids begin to droop, and soon enough, she was lightly snoring, her hands clutching the bed sheets in front of her. It had been only a matter of minutes after her eyes had shut, when a shadow moved over her and flowed under the large four-poster bed. Gliding over into the dark corner between the wall and the sleeping girl, the mist began to evaporate, leaving in its wake, a hulking form with gleaming eyes and large wings. Clutched in its right hand was a shinning orb fashioned out of clear glass. As it leaned over the small girl, a grin was forming on its scaled face, and a forked tongue slithered across its jagged teeth.

Letting out a low growl, Zabulus inhaled deeply, smelling the fear that rolled of the girl in waves. Carefully placing the glass sphere on the bed, he observed his prey before actually beginning his work. Tapping the container with one long talon, he muttered a spell, one written before the dawn of time, and watched as an opening appeared in the top. Muttering once again, he looked at his right arm, watched it dissolve into a column of smoke. With a mad grin, he moved it towards the girl's half-open mouth, his mouth watering in anticipation of his first collection.

Just as he was about to plunge his arm inside, something made Evelyn's eyes fly open, register the fact that there was a massive shadow next to her, and she screamed.

***

"Did you hear?" Neville's voice split the quiet of the boy's dorms. His cries were met with loud groans and muffled curses. Of course they hadn't heard anything, they were all dead asleep when he'd come crashing through the door.

With a curse of his own, Harry lifted his head and stared at the frantic boy with half open eyes. "W – what's wrong Neville?" he asked with a yawn, assuming that the poor boy was dreaming, perhaps a nightmare even. He was wrong.

"It's horrible Harry," he stumbled over to his bed. "Horrible," he wiped his face with his sleeve. 

"What's horrible?" Ron grunted out, cracking open one eye to glare at Neville balefully.

"I – I was going to see Susan," he began, not bothering to flush and stutter when he mentioned the cute Hufflepuff. "And, and I saw Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick floating something wrapped in a bed sheet towards the hospital wing," he paused to suck in a lung full of air before continuing. 

By this time, Harry was a bit more awake and attentive. "What was it Neville?" he probed. "It, it didn't have anything to do with Voldemort did it?" he was reaching for his robe as he stared at him with wide eyes, wondering why his scar hadn't hurt at all.

"No, no, it wasn't V – Vold…it wasn't him."

"Then what?" this was asked by Dean, who was leaning forward with interest.

Neville gulped. "They don't know what it was. But Flitwick carried a second year girl out of their dorms late last night after she'd screamed bloody murder."

"She's, she's not dead is she?" Ron asked in a horrified voice.

"No, not dead. But it looks like she's gone plum crazy," he was staring at the floor as he spoke. "I've heard that she was just laying there, her eyes wide open and all glassy, almost like she'd been petrified. No one else knew much about it, even her roommates, except for one who's refusing to talk about it. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick had to get Madam Pomfrey give her a sleeping potion to get her to quiet down."

By the time Neville was finished speaking, the room was deathly quiet. "Did she say anything at all Neville?" Seamus asked, fishing for more information.

"Susan didn't really know firsthand, in fact no one in the house knows what's going on since nobody'll tell them. But, she had heard that the only word the girl was saying before Madam Pomfrey got there was something about shadows."

"Shadows," Ron frowned and glanced at the rest of the boys. "What kind of nonsense is that?" His question was met by shrugs and the shaking of heads. He paused before speaking again. "Justin is one of their prefects, maybe he'll know a bit more about it."

"I dunno," Harry scratched his head and chewed on his lower lip, a sense of dread collecting in the pit of his stomach. "But something tells me, all hell is about to break loose."

***

It was a somber day. By lunchtime, Evelyn's name was on the lips of every Hogwarts student and teacher. Curiosity and horror were some of the more predominant feelings as students cast the mute Hufflepuffs sympathetic looks. Some walked around with a look of indifference about them, while others were wondering if what had happened to the shy girl was contagious and gave the Hufflepuffs a wide berth. And of course, the one person who may have had a clue as to what had really happened, was still sleeping in the hospital wing, along with her fellow house mate, under the watchful eyes of Madam Pomfrey.

"That poor girl," Lavender was beside herself when she'd heard the news from Ron. "That poor, poor girl," she shook her head. "And no one knows what's happened?"

"Not yet," Ron told her, his brow furrowing in concern. "I'm surprised really that Dumbledore hasn't said anything yet."

"Think about it Ron," Hermione put in. "What's he supposed to say?" she shrugged. "No one knows what happened and you know Dumbledore won't lie."

"Yeah I know," he sighed. "But I just don't get it," he cast Harry a sideways glance. "The Hufflepuffs have always been the least likely of all the houses to be under attack by You-Know-Who."

At this, Harry grunted. "Except for Justin in second year," he reminded them. 

"That was different mate," Ron argued. "At that time, no muggle born was safe, no matter what house they were in."

"I suppose you're right," his shoulders slumped. "But still…" he didn't finish.

"Stop it this instant," Hermione looked pointedly at him. "Don't you dare blame yourself Harry Potter," she ordered.

He looked up at her with troubled eyes. "Who said I was?" he retorted, even though he knew that she knew he was.

"I can read you like a book," her voice grew softer. "It's not your fault Harry," she reached out a hand to lay on his shoulder. Ron and Lavender both nodded in agreement.

"I know," he breathed out, propping both hands on his hips. "But I can't help it," he chuckled bitterly. "Usually anything bad that happens to the school is some how directed towards me," he grit his teeth. "How is this any different?"

"Because," Hermione went on patiently. "No one knows exactly what happened, not even Dumbledore from the sounds of it," she locked eyes with him. "What happened to Evelyn Applebaum could have been just a horrible, horrible accident."

"I hope you're right Hermione," Lavender whispered, her eyes still wide at the thought of the small second year. "I hope to God that you're right."

A muscled twitched in Harry's jaw and he broke away from Hermione's penetrating look. "Please don't," she swallowed thickly and stepped forward to encircle his waist with her arms. "Please don't blame yourself," she rested her head on his chest and willed away the tension she felt racing through his body.

After a few moments, he visibly relaxed and wrapped his own arms around her. Letting out a deep sigh, he pushed away all his depressing thoughts and concentrated on the girl in his arms and his friends hovering in the background. "Sorry," he forced a small smile, one that he didn't feel on the inside. "You're right Hermione. It probably has nothing to do with me."

"Exactly," Ron nodded from his spot beside Lavender, but knew from the look in Harry's eyes that they would be discussing the recent events in detail later.

***

It was addicting, this feeling of power and anonymity. The fact that one simple, silly little girl had the whole school in an uproar, and that they were the reason behind it. Or more simply, Harry Potter was the reason behind it. Eyes swept over each table in the Great Hall. Tracing over the smug Slytherins, the gossiping Gryffindors, the distraught Hufflepuffs, and then finally the shocked Ravenclaws. Inside they were laughing, proud that they had accomplished the first task, terrorizing the school. It would only be a matter of time before people started pointing the finger at Harry Potter, the ruddy golden Boy-Who-Lived. 

It wouldn't be surprising if people were already formulating that idea in their minds, even if they wouldn't ever speak out loud. It was enough satisfaction to watch everyone walking around in fear, looking over their shoulders and unable to sleep at night. Oh yes, school was about to get very interesting. One down, many more to go. Lips twitched in anticipation of nightfall, wanting to continue their reign of terror. Gleaming eyes made the rounds across the room once more, sliding over faces and mentally taking notes. Finally, their gaze remained on the pale face of a fourth year Slytherin.

__

Perfect, you're perfect. An evil chuckle floated through their mind as they studied the boy before them. _After tonight, no one is going to want to sleep again. I only wish I could have heard the ridiculous Hufflepuff screaming_, lips did curve upwards then. _But the best is yet to come. The best will be when I see Harry Potter crushed and broken when I take her away from him. Then and only then will my wish be fulfilled._

***

Deep within his lair, Zabulus carefully placed the glass sphere on the stone shelf, the first of many. He felt stronger already, felt a new surge of power roaring through his veins as he flexed his wings. Stepping away with sinister glee, he let out a wild chuckle, eyes gleaming in pride. Floating within the clear glass was a faint wisp of what looked like smoke, gently spinning round and round. But what couldn't be heard, was the terrified weeping of Evelyn Applebaum.

~*~

__

Right, well I was trying to make this chapter as long as possible since I took five million years to update, but, there's too much information to continue at this point. If I had, I wouldn't have anything left to write about in the remaining chapters. Anyway, I do hope you enjoyed it, and once again, I am sorry about how long it took me to actually post this…I hope I didn't disappoint you too much.

Well, has anyone figured out who "The Master" is? Let me know if you have, although I probably won't tell you if you're right. Yes, I'm evil. Anyway, the whole coffee scene isn't my idea. I read a story once, either on portkey.org or pumpkinpie.org that had to deal with coffee and either Hermione or Harry not liking it until they kissed the other after they had drank some. Therefore, all credit goes out to the author of that particular story. I want to say it was entitled "Coffee" but I've been known to be wrong before. If anyone remembers the story I'm talking about, let me know and I'll make sure to mention it in chapter seven. Anyway, I'm off to start the next chapter…I'll see you soon!


	7. Chapter Seven

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Disclaimer: _Nothing belongs to me. All characters and setting that you recognize belong to JK Rowling._

First things first, a huge thank you goes out to my betas (my GSP police), **Fabiana** and **Pen**, for taking the time out of their own busy schedules to help me and who did such a great job with this chapter. And for allowing me to pester them endlessly online. You two are the best! Secondly, to all my reviewers…thank you! And I'm going to try a new format of sorts, which means author's notes will now be at the bottom.

****

***

Fear in me so deep

It gets the best of me

Into fear I fall

Here it comes face to face with me.

"Downfall" TrustCompany

***

~*~

"So," Ron flopped down on his bed across from Harry once they were safely tucked away after lunch, "are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" he asked, studying the black-haired boy with a critical eye.

Harry sighed and stared at the floor, twisting the hem of his shirt between his fingers before finally speaking. "I don't know," he sighed again, still not looking at Ron.

"What don't you know?" Ron probed, knowing that Harry usually kept his feelings bottled up inside. It was almost as if he was afraid to share them with anyone lest they'd think he was a bother. Usually one had to urge him to share his feelings.

Harry shook his head and then rubbed his face with his hands. "I don't know," he repeated himself. "I just-- I just can't help but think that what happened last night has something to do with me," he shrugged his shoulders and stared at his hands, which were clenching and unclenching in his lap. 

"Harry…" Ron began slowly, desperately searching his mind for the right words so he wouldn't jam his foot in his mouth by saying something tactless.

"Don't, Ron," Harry shook his head and held out a hand to stop the flow of words. "I know what you'd say," he offered a weak smile. "You'd say the same thing Hermione told me this afternoon."

"Well," Ron smiled sheepishly, "Hermione could be right you know. What happened might have been an accident. Maybe she had a nervous breakdown of sorts," he speculated with a shrug and gesture of his hands.

"Right," Harry snorted, finding it slightly amusing that Ron would be trying to logically analyze the situation. "Which I'd be inclined to believe _if_ her roommate hadn't been babbling about shadows," he turned his piercing eyes towards his friend.

"Okay fine," Ron relented, and stood up to pace the length of their room with his hands clasped behind his back. "Let's say you're right. Let's say whatever happened to the Hufflepuff _is_ somehow related to you," he stopped his pacing and turned to face Harry. "Why?" Ron asked simply, shrugging his shoulder and spreading his hands. "Why a Hufflepuff and what do shadows have to do with anything? And how does an attack on Hufflepuff affect you? Why not Gryffindor instead?"

"I dunno," Harry replied softly and then groaned as he flopped backwards on his bed. "But I will tell you one thing. I don't think it has anything to do with Voldemort."

Ron flinched slightly at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "How'd you know that?" 

"My scar," Harry said simply, staring upwards at the ceiling. "It never hurt. Hasn't hurt for quite sometime so far …" he trailed off, a thoughtful look clouding his features. "Odd isn't it?" he asked out loud.

"Maybe You-Know-Who's finally up and died," Ron said rather hopefully. "After that spell and all that Dumbledore and the Order cast."

"One can only hope," Harry gave a slight smile. "Maybe you should talk to Justin, Ron," he advised. "See if he knows anything that Dumbledore and the others wouldn't tell us."

The redhead nodded. "Alright," he agreed. "I'll see what I can do."

***

"Albus," Minerva McGonagall nervously wrung her hands as she paced the length of the Headmaster's quarters, "what are we going to do?" There was no need to elaborate on what she was referring to; quite honestly, it was the only thing that students and teachers alike could think about. 

The Headmaster sat behind his large desk, hands folded neatly on the desktop, watching the head of Gryffindor through his half-moon glasses as a smile played across his lips. "Minerva," he said, calmly, patiently. "Please, sit down," he gestured to the chair across from him. 

She froze mid-step and pursed her lips tighter together before giving into his request. With a low sigh, she lowered herself into the cozy armchair and sat primly, her hands folded tightly together in her lap, her back ramrod straight. "This isn't a laughing matter," she reminded him, although not as sharply as she would have addressed anyone else, as she caught the slight smile that played about his lips.

"Of course not, Professor," Dumbledore nodded, his eyes grave. "You're correct, this isn't a laughing matter."

There was a moment of silence before McGonagall broke it. "This isn't something that we can keep quiet for long. Students have already begun to send owls home to their parents and you know they will begin to demand an explanation," she paused. "What do we tell them?" She looked towards the silent Headmaster for a sign that things would be alright, as memories from four years earlier flooded her mind.

Dumbledore nodded, solemnly running a hand down his beard as she spoke. "That, Minerva, I don't know," he shook his head and looked towards Fawkes, who was perched comfortably on the top of a bookshelf. "I'm afraid I have no answers to give. At least not now," he sighed heavily, then rose to his feet and crossed the room to stand before a heavily laden bookshelf, his eyes skimming across the titles neatly written on their spines. 

"Do you think …" McGonagall's voice faltered momentarily, as she fought to regain her composure when his answer failed to reassure her. "Do you think this could be the work of You-Know-Who?" she asked, anxiously, wanting proof that there was something human, something solid that they could fight against. She'd been terrified that Hogwarts had been on the verge of being shut down during the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco, but this new development left her guessing and grasping at straws for answers. And Minerva McGonagall hated being without answers even more so than being interrupted during a lecture.

For a moment, Dumbledore's smile wavered and the twinkle disappeared from his eyes. "My dear Professor," he said, slowly, "no, I don't think it's Voldemort. But something older, darker," he turned to face her, all traces of humor gone from his face.

"Older?" she inquired sternly, taking on a wary look as she peered out of her spectacles, trying to remain calm and controlled. 

"Much older," Dumbledore repeated softly with a nod of his head, not offering any more information, much to McGonagall's annoyance. "But first, we need to speak with Ms. Applebaum's roommate. Perhaps she can shed some more light on the situation at hand. Until then, Minerva," he turned his intense gaze on her once more, "I suggest that we keep our eyes and ears open." He paused. "I fear this is only the beginning in what will prove to be a long, hard road for us to travel."

***

Four Gryffindors were camped out in the common room. Harry and Hermione took up residence on one of the overstuffed armchairs near the stone fireplace, while Ron and Lavender cuddled next to each other on the couch. It was unusually silent in the large room. Most weekends consisted of various groups of Gryffindors huddled together round the large table, some studying, some gossiping, and some playing games like Exploding Snap or wizard's chess. Today, however, no one was much in the mood for games, not after what had happened the night before. Muted voices could be heard, and terrifying rumors were the topic of the day rather than Potions or Charms homework.

All around the school, dozens of students were whispering in small groups about recent events. With each whisper, imaginations ran wild, thinking of any and every possible scenario. Owls were flying rapidly to and from the Owlrey, no doubt delivering the news back home and receiving word from worried parents. Lavender had been tempted to send word to her parents as well, but decided against it, as no one really knew what had happened.

"Reckon Dumbledore will say anything anytime soon?" Ron asked as he twirled a lock of Lavender's blonde hair around his finger. "I mean, from the number of owls that are going back and forth from here, you know what happened last night will be all over the wizarding world by morning," he snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if there was a write up about it tonight in the _Evening Prophet_."

Harry sighed while Hermione stifled a groan at Ron's words. "That wretched Skeeter woman will no doubt jump at the chance to somehow relate this to Harry as well," she shook her head, her mouth turned down at the corners in a frown as she thought of the conniving Rita Skeeter. "And if that happens…" she didn't finish speaking. Her words lingered in the air, allowing each to imagine possible consequences of the treacherous reporter getting wind of the news.

"Ugh," Lavender shivered and snuggled closer to Ron. "I just can't imagine," she wrung her hands in her lap as she spoke. "No one knows what's going on. And her parents--" her eyes grew wider at the thought. "What are they going to tell her parents?"

"I dunno," Harry said heavily, dragging a hand roughly through his hair, before heaving a low sigh then directing his attention towards Hermione. "Do you fancy a walk?" he asked as he nudged her on the side with his elbow, wanting to escape the feeling of depression that was floating about the school.

"Sure," she slid out of the chair and smoothed down her skirt. "I'll just go fetch my cloak," she threw the words back over her shoulder as she picked her way across the room and towards the stairs.

Harry nodded. "How about you two?" he arched an eyebrow as he looked at the snuggling couple. "Want to join us?" he invited.

"No thanks, mate," Ron shook his head. "It looks a mite too cold outside for me. Besides I'm feeling quite cozy here," he dropped Lavender a wink and gave her a light squeeze. She blushed in response.

"Alright then," Harry smiled slightly, then rose from the chair to meet Hermione at the bottom of the stairs after she emerged from her dorm room. "We'll see you later," he looked directly at Ron, who gave him a slight nod of understanding at his look.

***

"Bit chilly out isn't it?" Hermione shivered as they stepped out into the crisp air. Her breath left her nose in twinjets of steam, as she and Harry made their way across the courtyard and headed down to the lakeside. The grass crunched loudly under their feet, the light frost that had settled turning them into brittle blades of green streaked with brown. She shivered again. "It's not supposed to be this cold yet," she tucked her hands into the pockets of her cloak. "You'll freeze to death when you play Quidditch this term. You ought to put a warming charm on your robes if you can." She looked at him. "You are playing this term, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I've already talked to the new captain about it," Harry nodded, thankful that he'd put on his warmest jumper that morning. It was a wooly green one that he'd gotten from Mrs. Weasley last Christmas, complete with the large letter H that had been gracing practically every jumper he'd received from her over the years. "Is it too cold for you?" he asked, tilting his head to get a look at her. "We could go back inside if you want," he stopped, half-turning back towards the castle, after he saw her slightly shiver and hitch her cloak around her more securely.

"No, no, it's okay," she assured him and put a hand on his arm to keep him where he was. "It'll just take some getting used to, I suppose," her cheeks were turning a rosy pink, thanks to the chilly air that surrounded them. Her hair was pulled back. Several golden strands had fought their way free of their binds and were now floating happily on the slight breeze. "See? I'm better already," she smiled and did a slight twirl around, her cloak swishing about her ankles. "Besides, I'd rather be out here with you, than inside," she stopped twirling and stared out over Hogwarts lake. The cold air was in sharp contrast to the warm lake, where steam rose up off the cloudy water in great columns of mist. 

His breath caught in his throat as he watched her. He knew that she would never consider herself breathtakingly beautiful, and certainly not likely to grace the cover of _Witch Weekly_ Magazine. But right at that moment, with her cheeks stained red, her hair dancing about her face, and her brown eyes shining, complete with a backdrop of fall colors and the steaming water, he'd never seen her look more beautiful. He was lost in a trance, completely unaware that she'd turned to face him and was currently giving him an odd look.

"What?" her eyebrow was arched and she had a quizzical look on her face. "Harry? Are you alright?" she asked, waving a gloved hand in front of his face to get his attention. 

He finally broke free of his stupor, giving a quick shake of his head to focus his attention on her question. "I'm fine," he cleared his throat, then tucked a piece of flyaway hair behind her ear. "Just thinking how beautiful you are," he said softly, leaving his hand resting against her cheek.

She blushed a darker shade of red and dropped her eyes to stare at the tips of her shoes. "Thank you," she murmured softly before raising her head and giving him a wide smile. "I'm not perfect you know."

He shrugged. "So you may not think you're perfect," he stepped closer to her. "And I most certainly don't care if you are or not. All I know, Hermione, is that you mean the world to me. Your friendship is a gift that I never expected to have. And your love…" he searched for the right words. 

"Shh," she raised a finger to his lips to silence him. "I know," she placed her hands on either side of his face. "You don't have to tell me, Harry, I already know," she gave him a small smile.

He gave a slight nod and settled his own hands on her swell of her hips. "I mean it, you know," he murmured as she tugged his head down.

"I know," she whispered again, raising herself on tiptoe and placing her lips on his. After a few moments, both pulled back, their faces a bit redder than before. Hermione giggled lightly at the gobsmacked look on his face. She then tugged at his arm, a silent signal that they should keep moving or suffer the consequences of frozen feet. 

He allowed her to pull him along, his hand curled firmly around hers as they approached the edge where the water was lazily lapping against the sandy beach. Letting go of her hand, Harry bent and snagged several small stones. Straightening, he began to plunk them one by one into the water while Hermione sat on a large rock next to him, watching his antics with an amused smile. Farther out, towards the center, the Giant Squid broke the surface of the murky waters, felt the sting of the cold air, and then dove back down below the warmth.

Above them, more owls swooped down towards Hogwarts, no doubt carrying frantic letters from worried parents. Upon seeing them, Harry finished throwing his remaining stones and then wiped his hands on his trousers, all the while keeping his eyes trained upwards.

"What are we going to do, Hermione?" he asked, his eyes following the descent of the birds.

"I don't know," she answered, softly. "I just don't know," her teeth worked on her lower lip. "But there must be something going on," she racked her brain. "There's got to be. I can't imagine that her roommate had to be sedated as well, if it were an accident or something natural."

"Shadows," Harry whispered, more to himself than Hermione, his eyes still fixed on the darkening sky above, which was streaked with inky black clouds staining the gray with their skeletal shapes. 

"Excuse me?" she asked, a note of alarm in her voice as she stared at him.

"Hmm?" he dropped his eyes.

"You said something about shadows," her eyebrows knit together and her lower lip was pulled between her teeth.

"Er – yeah," he scratched his head and turned to look at her. "Didn't I tell you Evelyn's roommate was saying something about shadows?"

Hermione's narrowed eyes took on a thoughtful look. "No," she shook her head slowly. "I don't think you did," she paused again. "Harry?"

"What?"

"Don't you remember Madam Lissette saying something about the anima caterra moving in shadows?" she jogged his memory.

__

For it is in the darkness and shadows that it moves, flowing like deadly smoke, soundless and odorless. 

He gulped as he heard the old Diviner's voice in his head. "What are you thinking, Hermione?" he asked, worried. They have yet to figure out what an anima caterra or even an Umbra Antitheus was.

She shook her head. "I'm thinking I'm going to regret saying this," she smiled a bit ruefully considering the situation. "But we'd better head back to the common room, Harry," she sucked in a breath. "I may be wrong and Madam Lissette just might be right."

He knew it was wrong, knew it deep down inside, but he couldn't stop himself. Hermione Granger, brilliant scholar and staunch disbeliever in Divination, was admitting that a fortuneteller was right in her predictions. The same Hermione Granger, who could devour entire libraries as if it were nothing and recall every page that she read, was admitting that she was wrong. 

The thought (of having his intelligent girlfriend admit she was wrong) struck him as amusing. Then he made a horrible mistake. He sniggered, a very obvious snigger at that, which he didn't bother to hide. It bubbled up inside him, and before he could contain it, it spilled forth from his lips and effectively sealed his doom. From the moment her eyes swung towards him, he froze, caught red-handed as it were, as her eyes went from warm brown to an icy glitter in the span of a few seconds.

"And what was _that_ for?" she asked, her voice taking on an edge as she narrowed her eyes, putting her hands on her hips, as she glared at her petrified boyfriend.

"Er– well, I, I…" Harry mentally kicked himself.

"You what?" she asked, her tone hard and laced with hurt, as she continued to stare at him with her piercing gaze.

"It's just that you – you, well, ah…" he sighed heavily, deciding to tell the truth and face whatever consequences she'd send his way. "It's just that you never admit when you're wrong," he said meekly.

"Harry James Potter!" she raged, her face flushed a brighter red, although this time not from the cold. He winced, wanting the ground to split wide open, swallow him whole, end the lecture he knew was forthcoming, and wishing he could take back every word he'd just uttered. "You, you – " she stammered before regaining her composure. Inhaling a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she grit her teeth. "_I'm_ going back inside," she spoke in a controlled manner although her eyes were still snapping. He edged closer to her, ready to fall in step alongside her. "_Alone_," she huffed, stopping him dead in his tracks before she turned on her heel and stalked away, leaving him by himself in the frosty air.

He watched her walk away, her stride quick and her shoulders stiff. Silently cursing himself, he lightly thumped his head against a tree trunk for his stupidity. "Way to go, Potter!" he muttered angrily to himself as he straightened and kicked at a pile of fallen leaves, sending them flying every which way. "Dolt, you just had to laugh at her," he sighed and ran both hands through his hair. "Stupid, stupid prat," he groaned, knowing he was going to have a hell of a time trying to make this one up to her.

***

"You're back early," Ron noted as Harry stumbled back in the warmth of the common room, his face still red from the dropping temperature outside. Ron and Lavender had inched closer to the fire themselves, going from lounging on the couch to lying side by side on the floor. "Where's Hermione?" he asked, searching behind Harry for their mutual friend.

"Dunno," Harry said glumly, as he shrugged his cloak off his shoulders and draped it over the back of a chair. "Hasn't she come in herself?" he asked, his eyes flicking up towards the clock in the corner of the common room to check the time.

"No, not that we've seen," Lavender shook her head, her eyes narrowing on Harry's blank expression. "Why didn't she come back with you?" she asked, pulling herself into a sitting position and eyeing him carefully.

Next to her, Ron stifled a snort. "What?" he asked innocently although there was a gleam in his eye. "Did you two have a _fight_?" a smirk was tugging at his lips.

Harry said nothing as he moved towards the abandoned couch, opting instead to glare at his sniggering best friend.

"You didn't!" Lavender's eyes grew wide at the thought and her jaw sagged slightly.

Ron wasn't far behind in his teasing. "Ha! You did!" he rolled over onto his side to get a better look at Harry's face. "Please, please tell me that it wasn't your fault," he inquired, doing his best to stop laughing and failing miserably as his grin threatened to split his face in half. "And that you won."

The Boy Who Lived did nothing but glare, offering no words in his defense. That was all Ron needed to come to a conclusion; Harry's face said a thousand words.

"Harry, Harry," Ron shook his head mournfully. "You're a disgrace to all men," his blue eyes were sparkling in laughter. "You never, ever, let the girl win!" But Ron's smug look was short lived as Lavender's right hand connected solidly with the back of his head, nearly sending him face first onto the floor.

"Ron!" she was horrified and slightly miffed at his words.

"So," Ron gingerly rubbed at the stinging spot, "whatcha do anyway?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Harry flopped down ungracefully, his head tilted forward until his chin was resting on his chest. "Nothing," he muttered, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it," he shook his head, feeling quite stupid over the whole argument. 

"Come on," Ron's grin was becoming more dangerous by the minute. "You must have done something, mate."

Pretending not to hear him, Harry sat, twirling his glasses around and around by one of the earpieces, desperately trying to avoid the issue at hand. He could feel Ron's eyes burning onto the top of his skull, along with Lavender's, making him shift uncomfortably. Finally, sick of the silence that engulfed them, he spoke. "It was stupid really. I um, well," he stuttered, dragging one hand through his already unruly hair. "She ah, she admitted she was wrong," he said softly, wincing internally at how foolish he sounded. "And I erm– laughed," he finished lamely.

"She WHAT??" Ron cackled, tipping his head back and letting out a loud hoot of laughter. "And you did – H – Hermione?" tears were beginning to show in the corners of his eyes.

"It's not funny," Harry grunted, crossing his arms over his chest and staring into the dancing flames of the fireplace. "Sod off, Ron," he scowled. 

"Harry," Lavender spoke, a look of disapproval on her face as she tried to ignore her hysterical boyfriend, "what possessed you to do such a thing?" She rolled her eyes and cast a stern look at Ron. "Stop it," she ordered, giving Ron a none too gentle shove when his laughter failed to end at her command.

Ron didn't stop laughing, although he tried, her vicious slap moments before forgotten. "Oh that's priceless!" he wheezed, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands as the tears started to trickle down his face, before he set off into another round of laughter. "You, you, and Hermione…"

"Ugh," Lavender flung her hands up into the air. "Forget him," she rose from her spot on the floor and sat down next to Harry on the couch. "Anyway," she laid a hand on Harry's arm. "Why?" she asked again.

He shrugged. "I don't know, Lavender. It's not like I meant to be mean about it. It just slipped out really," he paused. "It's just that Hermione never admits when she's wrong about something. It just struck me as funny," he groaned and covered his face with his hands. "And since it had to deal with Divination, and we both know of Hermione's love of that particular subject, I just couldn't help myself."

His words only fueled Ron's laughter. 

"Ronald Weasley!" Lavender said sharply, her eyes narrowing into mere slits. "You best watch yourself," she warned, not at all amused.

Finally, Ron managed to gain control over himself. This was done by Lavender's vocalized disapproval of his current state of hysterics as well as Harry's glowering. Eventually, after Ron's loud barks of laughter had been brought down to a level of soft sniggers, they got around to the root of Harry's current predicament.

"Hermione thinks that what happened to Evelyn Applebaum wasn't an accident," Harry said in a flat tone, his eyes entranced by the shadows flowing across the walls.

Lavender sucked in a harsh breath. She'd been more than content to imagine that the young Hufflepuff had physical ailments, which brought on her comatose state. "What do you mean?" she questioned; her heart hammering in her chest as near panic flooded her. "Do you think it was – er, you know," she stuttered, unable to make herself say Voldemort or even You-Know-Who. Unlike Harry, Ron, and Hermione, she had never been in a position where Voldemort was the topic of discussion.

"No, I don't think so," Harry shook his head slowly, his forehead wrinkling in concentration. "My scar never hurt," he unconsciously reached up to run a finger over the twisted mark. 

"Then what?" Ron had pulled himself into a sitting position, his long legs crossed rather comically underneath him.

"Do you remember when Neville came in this morning to tell us what happened? And do you remember what he said about shadows?" Harry asked. Ron nodded mutely while Lavender swung her eyes from Harry to her boyfriend, a confused look floating through their blue depths.

"Shadows?" she inquired, a slight frown on her face.

"I could have sworn we told the both of you," Harry sighed and rubbed at his neck. "They had to call Madam Pomfrey down because Evelyn's roommate had to be sedated," he began.

"Right," Lavender nodded, drawing herself up until she was sitting upright. "I knew that much."

"But the reason why she was sedated," Ron took over explaining, "was that she was talking about shadows." He shrugged and spread his hands. "No one could figure out what she was babbling about and she wouldn't stop. From what Neville heard, she was near hysterics."

"And?" Lavender urged them to continue.

"And I've just remembered something that Madam Lissette said to us while we were in Knockturn Alley," Hermione answered for them as she came down the steps, several books in hand. " 'It moves in the shadows, flowing like deadly smoke,' " she said, grimly, avoiding Harry's look. 

Ron shot her a concerned look. "So," he looked at her expectantly as Hermione moved towards them, "what's your plan then? I'm sure you've got one by that look in your eyes." He eyed her carefully. "And when did you come back inside?" his lips twitched as he fought back a smirk.

Hermione's answer was to hand him a rather thick book, which Ron took rather grudgingly and not without a loud sigh. "We search for answers," she said simply, handing a book each to Harry (who was sitting silently with a contrite look on his face) and Lavender. Her fingers brushed against Harry's for a moment as she locked eyes with him.

Harry had just opened his mouth to speak to her when McGonagall's magically amplified voice filled the common room. "All Prefects report to the Great Hall."

"Oh bloody hell," Ron groaned, flopping backwards and heaving a sigh. "Just what we need, a surprise Prefects meeting." 

*** 

"So, what exactly are we looking for?" Lavender asked, as she and Harry flipped through the books that Hermione had left before the two Prefects departed for their impromptu meeting.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger before squinting down at the text. "Umbra Antitheus or anima caterra," he sighed as he scanned the words. "Or anything about Dementors."

"Right," Lavender said with a sheepish smile. She fell silent for a moment as she trailed a finger down a column of words. "Harry?"

"What?"

"What was it like?" she looked up from the page and looked at him, her eyes wide with curiosity.

He frowned. "What was what like?" he gave her a questioning look over the rim of his glasses.

She paused before answering. "Last year, in Slytherin," she stuttered the question. "What was is it like?" she twisted a lock of hair around her finger nervously, as if she was afraid he'd become angry with her question.

Harry froze for a moment, not quite sure how to answer. He wasn't sure if there were words that could even come close to the revulsion that he'd felt.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, her cheeks growing hot in embarrassment at the look of disgust that floated across his face. "I shouldn't have asked, it's none of my business."

"No," he shook his head and gave her a small smile. "It's alright," he was quick to reassure her. "It was like…" he tilted his head back so that it rested on the back of the crimson couch. "It was the closest to being in hell as I ever want to be," he said simply, not able to adequately express his disdain.

"I'm sorry," Lavender mumbled again, bending her head down to stare at her book once more.

"What for?" Harry looked over at her. "It's not your fault I spent a good part of the school term in the dungeons," he grimaced. "It's no one's fault but mine." 

Lavender nodded. "We're glad you're back you know," she said softly. "You belong here, Harry, in Gryffindor."

"Thanks," he smiled at her words and bent his head once more.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Does it bother you that Ron's a Prefect?"

"No," this was said without a moment's hesitation. "It doesn't," he gave her a wide grin and a hearty chuckle. "I'm glad Ron got it," he said, honestly. "He deserves to have something all his own."

***

"Hey, Justin," Ron approached the Hufflepuff prefect after their meeting had been adjourned. Most of the prefects had already left, the first ones being Malfoy and Pansy. 

The brown-haired boy turned. "Hey, Ron," he greeted with a forced smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You alright?" Ron noted the other boy's pale face and stooped posture. 

Justin shrugged listlessly. "Alright as one can be after, well, what happened," he didn't finish, knowing that Ron would understand.

"Right," Ron shook his head, mentally grimacing at his rather thoughtless remark. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione approaching them from the other side of the room. "Sorry," he muttered quietly.

"S'alright," Justin shifted slightly on his feet. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?"

"Er – yeah," Ron brought his attention back to the task at hand, trying to find the right words in which to start his questioning. 

"Let me guess," Justin sighed heavily and held up a hand. "It has something to do with Evelyn, doesn't it?" he asked, his voice sounding tired rather than angry or annoyed.

It was Ron's turn to shuffle uncomfortably and he scuffed the toe of his shoe on the floor. "Yeah, if you don't mind, that is," he looked up to gauge the reaction of the other boy. 

"No, it's okay," Justin tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers as he rocked back on his heels. By this time, Hermione had reached the two of them, relieved Ron hadn't said anything inappropriate. "What did you want to know?"

"Erm," Ron scratched the back of his neck. "We've heard that Evelyn's roommate was saying something about shadows?" he left the question open-ended, hoping Justin would fill in the missing pieces.

"Yeah. It caused quite a ruckus really," the Hufflepuff leaned back against the wall, focusing on a small section of the opposite wall so he wouldn't have to look at them. "There's-- there's nothing like hearing an ear piercing scream in the middle of the night," he shuddered involuntarily in remembrance. "God, just the sound of it…It was enough to make your blood run cold," he licked his dry lips before continuing. "No one knew much of anything, still don't really. All I can remember is that the lot of us jumped out of bed and piled in the common room since we couldn't get to the girls' side with the wards and all," he rubbed his face with his hands. "Then Flitwick showed up after Sprout sent one of us after him, and then Professor Dumbledore, then Madam Pomfrey."

Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke while Justin told them what he knew.

"After the Headmaster showed up, that's when we knew something bad happened," Justin went on. "I mean really, if she was just sick or had a nightmare, then why would he need to be there?" he paused. "And then… then Allison –her roommate--" he informed them, "then she started babbling incoherently, going on and on about moving shadows."

Hermione's face had gone noticeably paler. She'd slapped a hand over her mouth, although her horrified expression was still apparent on her face.

"I saw her you know, Evelyn that is," the Hufflepuff went on. "When Flitwick levitated her out of the girls' dorms, I saw her. She was so white, and her face– God, her face was twisted, frozen in an image of complete terror." He sucked in a breath before plunging ahead. "She looked dead. Like she'd been scared to death by something. But that wasn't the worst of it, you know? The worst part was the smell…" Justin swallowed hard, as if he were fighting back the urge to be sick.

"The smell?" Ron shared a look with Hermione.

"Yeah, the smell. It smelled foul, like rotten flesh," Justin gagged slightly at the memory, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "It smelled like death."

"Oh, God," Hermione wheezed out while Ron turned an interesting shade of light green.

***

"And what exactly are you two doing?" Ginny asked as she came sailing down the staircase.

"Hey, Gin," Harry greeted; looking up from his book for a brief moment to give her a quick smile. "Erm, studying," he lifted the book high enough for her to catch a glimpse of the cover.

She flopped down next to him, her nose wrinkling slightly at the title of the book. "Ugh," she huffed and shook her head. "I can think of a hundred other things that I'd rather be doing than studying."

"Tell me about it," Lavender groaned, massaging her temples with her fingertips. She and Harry had nearly gone through all of the books that Hermione had left.

Ginny shot her a sympathetic look. "Do I even want to know what you're studying for?" she eyed their books carefully.

At her question, Harry and Lavender shared a quick look. "Defense," Harry answered for the both of them, noting Lavender's relief at his quick lie.

"Oh," Ginny crossed her arms and tilted her head back to rest on the back of the couch. "Sounds like fun," she grunted.

"Oh yes," Lavender yawned and rubbed at her eyes. "It's great fun," she continued with Harry's lie. "Want to help?" she arched an eyebrow, knowing full well that Ginny would refuse.

"No thank you," she shook her head. "I've only just finished my homework and have no desire to do any more."

"Suit yourself," Lavender shrugged and dropped her eyes back down to the open book.

All three remained silent for some time. The only sounds in the room were the popping and hissing of the fire and the turning of pages. "Awful what happened last night, isn't it?" Ginny spoke up as she nibbled on her fingernail, her eyes staring blankly into the fire.

Both Harry and Lavender paused in their reading. "Yeah," Harry murmured softly as Lavender merely nodded, her face and eyes sober.

"I talked to Victoria," Ginny went on, referring to a Hufflepuff in her year. "God," she groaned and closed her eyes. "I can't imagine," she shook her head slowly. "They're devastated you know, the whole lot of them. Completely crushed," she drew in a shaky breath. 

"Do they…" Lavender began, clearing her throat before continuing. "Do they have any idea as to what happened?" she inquired.

Ginny shook her head 'no'. "Not a blasted clue," she paused. "I'm sure you've heard all the rumors. Things like she lost her mind, stuff like that," she stopped to draw in a breath, and leaned forward slightly so that her elbows were resting on her knees. "But the latest one is that You-Know-Who caused it," her voice dropped lower as she spoke. "That he used her for some horrible human sacrifice."

"What?" Lavender gasped, clearly horrified at the idea. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open and she pressed a hand to her heart.

"Who told you that load of rubbish?" Hermione's voice rang out clearly as she and Ron stepped through the portrait door. "The Slytherins no doubt," she snorted in disgust as they edged closer to the small group.

Ginny just gave a half-hearted shrug and a weak grin. "It's just the rumor floating about," she looked up at her brother. "Where were you?" she inquired.

"Meeting," Ron answered simply before flopping down next to Lavender. He eyed his sister carefully. "And where have you been the last couple of days?" he narrowed his eyes. "I've only seen you at meal times." 

Under his steady gaze, Ginny flushed and dropped her own eyes to stare at her hands. "Nowhere," she said loftily. "I've just been busy, what with school work and all," she shrugged. 

"Right," Ron said slowly. "Is that all you've been up to?" 

"What's with you?" Ginny shot back, her own eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Since when did you get to be so nosey?"

"What?" Ron blinked innocently and stared pointedly at his fuming sibling. "Can't I wonder what my _only_ sister has been up to?" 

"Honestly, Ron," she glowered. "You're worse than Fred and George," she flipped her long, red hair over her shoulder.

"Hardly," he snorted, then gave her a grin Ginny couldn't help but return.

Before Ron could go on, Ginny let out a jaw-cracking yawn that she tried to cover with her hand. "Well I'm knackered," she slid off the couch. "I think I'll go take a nap," she yawned again. "Don't have too much fun studying."

"Bye, Ginny," Ron nodded; his words echoed by the other three in turn. With a final yawn and stretch, Ginny swept towards the stairs.

"Studying?" Hermione asked, directing the question towards Harry, her lips curved up in a small smile and one eyebrow raised. This was the first time she'd spoken to him since their argument.

Harry shrugged sheepishly and cast a glance at Lavender. "Well, I had to tell her something," he traced a finger over the recessed lettering on the cover of the book still on his lap. "I wasn't sure if you wanted her to know what we're up to just yet."

"So," Lavender piped up from her spot beside Ron's knee, "how was the meeting?" 

"The usual," Ron scratched his cheek. "More lecturing on how we need to maintain order, setting a good example, and fairly enforcing school rules," he paused. "Malfoy was as arrogant as ever," he griped, balling a hand into a fist and thumping it lightly on his knee.

"Ugh," Lavender sighed and rolled her eyes. "Some things never change. What did he do this time?"

"What didn't he do?" Ron huffed and ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose the worst of it was when he was making fun of the Hufflepuffs."

"He didn't!" Lavender looked up with a horrified expression.

"He did," Hermione interjected with a nod. 

"What a git!" Lavender exclaimed, color rising to rest high on her cheeks as her blue eyes snapped with emotion.

Ron grunted in response. "On to another thing, we," he gestured to himself and Hermione, "managed to talk to Justin."

"And?" Harry sat up a bit straighter. "Did he tell you anything new?" he asked.

"No," Hermione said softly and shook her head. "Not all new, at any rate," she bit her lip. "He did say that he saw Evelyn when Professor Flitwick levitated her out of the dorms. "And he said there was this smell," she let her eyes slip closed as a slight tremor ran through her.

"Smell?" Harry frowned as he looked at Ron for clarification.

"Yeah," Ron sucked in a deep breath and rubbed his face. "He said there was a smell of rotten flesh."

***

"Ah, Poppy," Dumbledore greeted the rather surly woman with a slight smile.

"Professor," she returned easily as she breezed by him with a tray in her hands.

"How are they?" he asked softly, causing her to stop almost mid-step. She carefully set the tray down on an empty bed and then turned to face him, her face tired and resigned.

"Not good," she shook her head. "Not good at all," she gestured him over to the sleeping form of Allison Hooper. "She was whimpering and thrashing in her sleep. She's only recently calmed down." She tucked the bed sheets in more securely around the young girl.

Dumbledore nodded. "And Miss Applebaum?" he questioned. 

Madam Pomfrey straightened then, her sharp eyes flicking towards a bed that has its hangings drawn tightly together. "She's not dead," she told him softly. "But she's not technically alive either."

At her words, Dumbledore cleared his throat and cast a thoughtful look down at the unmoving girl. "What is your prognosis then, Poppy?"

The elderly woman let out a heavy sigh before fixing the Headmaster with a steady gaze. "She has no soul, Headmaster. She's nothing but an empty shell," she turned back to stare at the still form. 

"I see," Dumbledore frowned, slightly nodding his head. 

"I've only seen people look like this on two other occasions," Pomfrey went on. "In Azkaban and St. Mungo's, in the ward for incurable patients."

***

Eyes watched from the shadows as Dumbledore emerged from the hospital wing. A scowl formed over the smooth features of the unseen observer. They slunk farther back in the darkness, pressing against the stone wall. Like a criminal returning to the crime scene, an overwhelming need was building inside for it to catch a glimpse of its first victim.

__

Drat Dumbledore, the figure silently mused, as it stared out a window at the darkening world below after the Headmaster walked past. _Of course he'd expect something, meddling old fool that he is. _A wicked gleam lit hollow eyes and a twisted smile crossed its lips. _But perhaps something can be done about that;_ a hand stole up the front of its robes and gave the glass orb a light squeeze. _But all in due time…all in due time._

***

"Oy! Come along, Harry," Fred poked his head around the door of Ron and Harry's shared room, with George not far behind. "Colin's sent us to fetch you, says you've got Quidditch practice in ten minutes." He paused and cast his youngest brother a look, eyes gleaming. "You too, Ron. We've heard there's a spot open for reserve Keeper, we figure you should give it a go."

"You've only got a month to train until the first match," George added, his ever-present smirk matching his twin brother's. "And bring your warmest robes. It's bloody cold outside on the pitch."

"What are you two doing here?" Ron eyed his brothers warily. "You've left school," he pointed out.

"That we did, dear brother," George nodded, his eyes gleaming. "Can't we just come to check up on you?"

"No," Ron grunted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine," Fred jumped in. "So it wouldn't bother you too much if we told you that we actually came to see Harry and not you?" he wiggled his eyebrows.

"What for?" Ron cast Harry a confused look.

"That," Fred sighed dramatically, "is a secret. Now hurry up. George and I have decided to watch you practice."

Ron grinned happily as he and Harry shared a look. It was only seconds after Fred and George left before they were both scrambling to ready themselves, each throwing on their warmest jumpers. Harry grabbed his Firebolt from under his bed. 

***

The twins hadn't been joking when they said it was cold outside. Harry and Ron could instantly feel the chill in the air as it tried to pierce its way through the layers of fabric that covered them. By the time they reached the Quidditch field, their faces were tinted red and their ears numb from the cold. The rest of the Gryffindor team were already assembled in their red and gold practice robes. Some were stomping their feet to keep their blood circulating, while others were blowing into their hands to keep their fingers warm. Around them, several other students mingled, waiting for their chance to try out for the team, even for only the reserve positions.

"Finally!" Carissa Wren (new Gryffindor captain after Angelina Johnson) uttered in relief when she caught sight of Harry and Ron. "Alright you lot," she waved the team over. "I know it's ruddy cold out here." This was met with vigorous nodding. "But we only have a month to get ready for our first match and we've got loads to do. I figured we'd start off with tryouts for the reserve spots. I want you all over here," she gestured to the eager candidates. "And then we'll start."

Harry heard Ron gulp audibly, his face slightly pale as he moved towards Carissa. "Hey," Harry stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Good luck." Ron responded with a quick, nervous nod before hurrying over to join the group.

***

From what Harry could tell, Ron was doing okay. Not exceptionally well, but then again, not exceptionally bad either. Even from his spot on the ground below, he could tell Ron was nervous. The fact that it was freezing outside didn't help. But to his and the twins' delight, Ron blocked 15 out of 20 goals, which was the best score among all those who tried out for Keeper. Ron must have sensed it too, having landed with a wide smile and giving a discreet thumbs up to Harry.

"Alright," Carissa shivered as she raised her voice to carry over the chatter. "Decisions will be posted within the next couple of days. Until then, thank you to all who tried out in such horribly cold weather."

The freezing hopefuls fairly dashed off the field, desperate to get inside and warm themselves by the fireplace. Ron was one of the last to leave, torn between wanting to watch the team practice or going inside to thaw his feet. Finally, the need to warm himself won out. He turned to head inside after a wave to Harry and a hearty slap on the shoulder from the twins. By this time, the rest of the Gryffindor team were impatient and wanting practice to be over.

"Come on, Carissa," Colin Creevey, now a Beater, whined as he covered his nose with his gloved hand to warm it. "Let's get on with it," he shivered. "At the rate this is going, we'll all be frozen to death and we won't have to worry about winning any matches."

***

Usually Harry loved flying. Loved the feeling of the wind whipping through his hair and the sense of freedom that he felt when he was soaring above the ground. Today was an exception. The bitter wind tore through his robes, bit at his ears and nose, and stung his eyes until they watered. They'd agreed to only practice for an hour at the most, as the sun was setting and the weather was getting worse by the minute.

Hovering on his broom, Harry cupped his hands and blew on them to gain warmth in his fingers. His nose beginning to run, he was having a devil of a time trying to see the Snitch in the growing gloom. Usually he would circle the field until he caught sight of it, but today he opted for sitting still to avoid becoming colder than he already was. Teeth chattering, he scanned the field for a flash of gold. Finally, and with a breath of thanks, he spied it lurking near the goal post and tore after it.

If the wind made his eyes sting when he was sitting still, this was ten times worse. His vision blurred and he narrowed his eyes into mere slits as he raced across the field. It wasn't until it was too late that he realized that Victoria Humbolt, a chaser, was right in front of him. He tried to stop, or swerve, to avoid colliding with her. But his numb fingers didn't seem to understand his request, making him plow headlong into her, knocking them both off their brooms. He saw the ground coming up to meet him in a rush, and then he saw black.

***

"I see you're awake, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey was leaning over him with a stern look on her face. Behind her were the concerned faces of his Gryffindor teammates, including what appeared to be an uninjured Victoria.

Harry squinted, the slight action sending a bolt of pain ripping through his head. "Um, yeah," he winced as he tried to sit up.

"Oh no, you don't," Pomfrey put a gentle hand on his shoulder and forced him to lie back down. "You, Mr. Potter, have just landed yourself an overnight stay in the hospital wing," she informed him.

Harry groaned. 

"I don't know what you were thinking," the elderly woman muttered, eyeing the silent Quidditch team reproachfully. "It's near freezing outside," she clucked. "And all for a silly game."

George opened his mouth to defend their favorite sport, but his twin plowed an elbow into his stomach to shut him up.

"Will he be alright, Madam Pomfrey?" Carissa spoke up, her eyes large and her face grim as she looked at Harry.

"Yes, yes," Pomfrey waved a hand as if to shoo them all away. "He'll be fine," she uncorked a bottle and poured it into a glass. "Here you go, Potter, drink up now," she nearly forced the glass into his hand.

He gulped, steeling himself for the burning sensation of the Pepper Up Potion she was making him drink. Screwing up his face, he closed his eyes and downed the contents in one gulp, nearly gagging as he did. No sooner was he done than his eyes began to water and steam leaked from his ears. Blindly handing the glass back to her, he swiped at his face.

Satisfied, Pomfrey turned to look at his visitors. "Five minutes," she barked. "You've got five minutes until the lot of you need to clear out," and she swept by them, going into her office.

Fred waited until she was out of sight. "You gave us quite a scare there, Harry," he winked. "But you did a bloody spectacular job of cushioning her fall," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, motioning to an embarrassed Victoria. Behind him, George sniggered.

"Where is he?" Hermione's frantic voice could be heard from behind the wall of Gryffindor Quidditch players. Red and gold parted to reveal Hermione's pale face and wide eyes. From his spot on the bed, Harry grinned weakly. "Harry Potter!" she admonished, a look of relief filling her eyes. "Don't you ever, ever do something like that again."

"Uh oh," George backed away. "I think that's our cue to leave," he motioned towards the door. "We'll see you later, Harry." 

"Bye," Harry nodded, and watched as his teammates and the Weasley twins slipped out of the room, before directing his attention to the girl before him. "Hey," he said, tentatively.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice softer as she sat next to him, grasping his hand.

He smiled in response and gave her hand a light squeeze. "I'm fine," he assured her. "Just took a spill off my broom is all," he shrugged. "No big deal really."

She bit her lip to keep her comment to herself. "Just as long as you're okay," she sniffed and looked away. 

"Hey," he tugged at her hand to get her to look at him again. "I'm sorry about this afternoon," he said, softly, tracing over the back of her knuckles. "I didn't mean to upset you and I shouldn't have laughed."

Hermione sighed and flashed him a wobbly grin. "It's alright," she brushed a hand over his forehead, sweeping his hair back. "I know you didn't mean to upset me," she let her hand linger on his cheek. "And besides, you're right, I don't admit when I'm wrong."

He leaned into her touch, amazed that he'd missed it so much within such a short amount of time. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, locking eyes with her and holding her gaze.

"I know," she rubbed her thumb over his cheek. "So am I."

"Ahem," Madam Pomfrey seemed to materialize out of thin air, breaking their moment. "I'm sorry, Ms. Granger, but visiting hours are over."

Hermione let her hand fall away from his face. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey," she nodded in understanding, untangling her other hand from Harry's. "I'll see you later. Good night," she smiled at him and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"Night, Hermione," he smiled up at her with a wink.

***

Winston Blair, fourth year Slytherin, settled down on his large four-poster deep within the dungeons. He'd had a good day. He'd finished all his homework, played several games of Exploding Snap with a friend, and bullied some second year Hufflepuffs, tormenting them about the night before. All in all, a very good day. Pulling the covers up to his neck, he sighed contentedly and let his eyes slip shut, feeling sleep creep over him like a warm blanket. Soon, he was snoring softly. 

It was quiet, almost too quiet in the dank dungeons that housed Slytherin. The only sounds to break the silence were the slow, shallow breathing of sleeping students, occasionally marred by a grunt or the rustling of fabric as someone rolled over on their bed. Somewhere in the darkened common room, the clock chimed three. Then the nightmare began in the form of oozing mist and the smell of rotten flesh.

***

Harry could feel a presence over him, causing his hair to stand up on the back of his neck, and his eyes to shoot open. Moonlight was cascading through the tall windows in the hospital wing, spilling its silver light over the stone floor. Cautiously rolling over onto his back, he fumbled for his wand. Sucking in a breath of surprise, he came face to face with Allison Hooper.

The petite girl was standing over his bed. Her hair hung limply around her face, and her skin was waxy white. Her unblinking eyes seemed to look right through Harry as she cocked her head to the side and stared unseeingly at him. A few moments passed before Harry remembered to breathe, which he did in a rush, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

"Excuse me," he whispered, trying to gain her attention. "Are you okay?"

She didn't answer, or bat an eyelash at his words, but continued to stare at him as if he wasn't there at all.

"Hello?" he tried again, restraining himself from waving a hand in front of her face. 

Still no response, her face expressionless and eyes vacant.

Harry sighed and reach over to pull the covers back, determined to go find Madam Pomfrey so she could assist the girl back to bed. Just as he was about to roll out of bed, an icy cold hand latched onto his arm, jerking him back to face Allison.

"It's too dark," she whispered hoarsely, her eyes still maintaining their empty look. "Too many shadows," her grip tightened on his arm. "Too many dark places where things can hide. They're alive." She slowly began to rock from side to side on her bare feet. 

"What?" Harry felt chills rolling down his spine as he listened to her raspy voice.

"The shadows are alive," her eyes suddenly seemed to come into focus, filling with terror and panic as they burned into his. "They move, they creep and crawl and they steal, they smell like death," she drew in ragged breaths, her chest heaving with the effort. Her voice rose to shrill levels as she babbled on. "It's too dark to sleep. Too dark-- must stay in the light. Must stay awake, don't let the light go out. Never let it go out or else the shadow will come and get me, collect me like Evelyn. Trap me just like Evelyn," here her eyes became unfocused once again, as if a shield had gone around her. She turned Harry loose, her hand slipping away as if it were boneless.

Harry's heart thumped loudly in his ears as her words rang in his head, echoing over and over. Without stopping to think why, he clambered out of bed, grasped his wand and pointed it at the candle sitting by her empty bed. Muttering softly, a small jet of light seeped from the tip of his wand and ignited the doused wick, the tiny flame sputtering to life and casting a soft glow around the room.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he watched her turn, walk stiffly past him to her bed, then pull the curtain tightly shut around it. Swallowing hard, Harry reached over and rubbed the spot where she'd clung to him, dread sending icy fingers down his back and driving all thoughts of sleep away. Licking his dry lips, he glanced at the clock. It was three o'clock. 

***

The large grandfather clock chimed three, its bells ringing through the empty Gryffindor room. Upstairs, unbeknownst to the sleeping roommates, a steady glow of blue light began radiating from Harry Potter's closed trunk. It leaked out through the keyhole and the seam where the lid closed, before winking out, leaving the room as dark as it was before. Hidden under the many layers of clothing and bundles of extra parchment, the Necklace of Tears was slowly fading from brilliant blue back to its clear state.

~*~

****

Author's Note: _Well, there it is, chapter seven. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And as far as who "The Master" is, you have some very, very good ideas…now you'll just have to wait and see if you're right._

***I am temporarily removing "Goodbye" from FF.net for revision issues. I will be re-posting it at a later date here, as well as at Portkey.org.***

****

Stoneheart: I see you've made it over to Portkey, good for you! As far as your request for post-Hogwarts H/Hr, I'll see what I can do. Although I may need to take a page from your book and write the whole story first before posting it. This way you guys don't have to wait for months in between updates.


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